


Broken plates, hostilities and sharing a house with a demon

by maqcy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst and Comfort, Back Chat, Blow Jobs, Demon AU, Eating Ice-Cream as a MEal, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gen, Institutionalised slavery, Knife Threat, M/M, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Non-human characters, Past Abuse, Past Rape, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Past Violence, Prison, Slavery, Smut, abusive past relationship, shock collar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:03:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11629929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy
Summary: Link is fucked-up and angry at the worldDeclan is fucked-up and in denial--Link entered Declan's barely-functioning life with barbed comments, a knife and the offer of a blowjob. Sharing a house with a homicidal demon might be his best decision this year.(originally called 'Unexpected')





	1. Unexpected

 

Declan was talking to a little girl who’d just had the cast taken off her wrist when he got a call from Laura, who he knew was in one of their consulting rooms with a woman and her demon, for assistance. With a hurried apology to the girl’s mother, Declan shouldered his door open and moved down the corridor in two strides to rush into consulting room two. He pulled the door shut behind him and took in the scene at a glance; young, male demon half-strapped to bed, Laura struggling to tighten leg strap, a middle-aged woman sat on a chair in the corner. The demon’s growls turned into a whine and he arched his back and it took Declan a couple of seconds to gather that he was being shocked,

“That’s enough.” He said firmly to the demon’s owner and she lifted her finger off the band at her wrist with a look of surprise. The demon collapsed back, breathless and Declan moved quickly to help Laura secure the demon, now lying utterly motionless. Yellow liquid spread underneath his hips and Declan thinned his lips. The demon growled in response. “What happened?” Declan asked, looking to Laura, more a friend than a colleague, and took in her flushed appearance, her hands still holding onto the demon’s leg,

“He needs shots. He was fine coming in and sitting down but he went crazy at the sight of a needle.”

“Are you hurt?” Laura shook her head,

“No, but he came right at me.” Declan frowned, glancing down at the panting demon, his eyes flashing.

“It’s illegal to bring a dangerous demon out in public without restraints.” Declan told the dour-faced woman. She glared at him,

“You want it put down? Fine, put it down. I’m utterly done with that creature. It’s insane.” She got up as if to go but Declan moved in front of her,

“Ms-”

“James.”

“Ms James, if you just wait we’ll give your demon his shots. Here, we don’t give demons the lethal injection without a documented medical condition.” Ms James rolled her eyes and snorted,

“Anyone can see it’s lost it. It belonged to my ex-husband and this is the first time it’s been out in months. I just didn’t want to catch anything disgusting off it.” Declan kept a carefully neutral face,

“I see.”

“Seriously, I’ve been meaning to get rid of it for ages. Just take it off my hands, you’d be doing me a favour.”

“The lethal injection costs a hundred and fifty-five pounds plus legal fees. Surely if you sold him, you’d at least get a return on him instead of a loss.” Ms James gave him a disbelieving look,

“You said yourself it’s dangerous. Who the hell would buy filth like that? Would you?” Some hesitation in Declan’s face gave him away, “You’d take it?” She said, half hopeful, half incredulous, “It’s good sometimes, you know, and it looks kind of pretty.” Declan was unimpressed,

“I’ll give you twenty pounds off the cost of this consultation but you’re paying for his shots.”

“Sure, sure.” Ms James agreed quickly,

“Declan,” Laura broke in, her expression a mask of concern, “you can’t go taking in strays. It’s not safe.”

“I’m not.” Declan said, moving to the cabinet on the wall to fetch the equipment needed for the demon’s injections. Laura had put some of it out already, “I’ve wanted a demon for a while.”

“You deserve a nice one. With manners. That won’t try and kill you.” Declan glanced at her and saw her looking exasperated, though there was genuine worry in her voice, “I can help you find one.”

“What happens to him then?” Declan said, a little sharper than he meant to, “I don’t put down healthy demons.”

“Take him to the centre. They’ll retrain him. He’ll be fine.” Declan knew that wasn’t true and sent Laura a glance. She grimaced slightly.

“Oh, really,” Ms James cut in, false geniality fixed into her tone, “that’s not necessary, I’ve just had a long day and I exaggerated. It was always very good with my husband. Maybe it just needs a man’s firmer hand?” Declan ignored her,

“I’ll be careful.” He said to Laura as he drew the liquid up into the needle, “Don’t worry, alright?” Declan turned back to the demon and saw him staring, his eyes huge, at the needle. Declan frowned, “What’s his name?” He asked the woman,

“John always called him Link, god knows why.” She huffed. Declan turned back to the demon but kept a distance from him,

“Link, look at me. Link.” The demon’s eyes lifted slowly up to the Declan’s face, glowering with hatred, “This isn’t going to hurt you.”

“Liar,” Link spat, his voice surprising low for someone so narrow and angular, “Don’t fucking come near me.” Declan frowned,

“I’m not lying. It vaccinates against a disease called RM. RM is highly contagious and could kill you.” Link looked entirely disbelieving. “I have no reason to hurt you, Link.” Link narrowed his eyes,

“That never stopped anybody before.” He snarled.

“Would you prefer Laura to do it?” Declan tried,

“I don’t want anybody sticking any fucking needles in me, is that so hard? Aren’t you doctors supposed to be smart?” Declan sighed and put the needle down on the side,

“We’re not doing this today.” He said, stripping off his gloves,

“But-” Laura started, eyebrows raised. Declan shook his head,

“I’m not traumatising him further.”

“You’re not still going to make me pay for it are you?” Ms James said.

“Yes I am,” Declan said, giving her a heavy look, “because he’s going to need his shots at some point and you’re paying for them.”

“And what if I don’t?” She spat at him, “You’ll refuse to take him? You seem pretty smitten.”

“I’ll press criminal charges against you for bringing a demon who threatened one of my staff members into my clinic.” The woman relented,

“Fine, fine, keep your pants on.” She said standing up and taking her purse, “But you’re going to need this.” She unclipped the shock bracelet from her wrist and dropped it into Declan’s hand before striding out of the room. Declan stared at the leather and metal cuff, the little button in the middle, covered with a sliding bit of plastic. He swallowed and stuffed the thing into his trouser pocket, unnerved to find Link’s eyes trained on him.

“Can you deal with her?” Declan said to Laura, nodding the way Ms James had just left, “I still have a girl to see.”

“Of course.”

“No one unstraps him unless I’m here.” Declan said, glancing at the urine on Link’s bed with a grimace,

“I wasn’t planning to.” Laura replied as she left the room and Declan, Link’s eyes tracking him, followed her outside. Declan took out his keys and locked the consulting room before walking back down the corridor.


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee, home and a revelation.

  

“Coffee, Declan? Before you head home?” Laura stuck her head round the door to his room,

“Uh yeah sure, thanks.” Declan sighed off the prescription for a teenager with acne and the adolescent and his father left. Last patient of the day. Finally. Declan could hear the kettle boiling and he concentrated on tidying up his things, picking up a cold mug from earlier in the day,

“Coffee’s ready!” He heard Laura call and gathered up his coat and switched off his computer, before freezing, “Shit.” He muttered, “Shit, shit, shit.” He stepped out into the corridor and Laura, stood in the doorway of the tiny kitchenette caught his pinched expression, “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about that demon. What was his name?” He pressed a tired hand to his forehead.

“Link.” Laura provided, “He’ll be alright, Declan don’t worry. We can have the coffee and then I could help you get him home and bathed, if you like?” Declan looked up to meet her gaze, her smile soft,

“I wouldn’t ask-” He protested,

“I’m offering.”

“But, Jackson-” He said, referring to Laura’s nine year old son,

“He’s with his dad tonight.”

“Oh. Alright, I mean if you’re sure.” He checked his watch, “I could always make you dinner to say thanks? It’s kind of late.” They stayed open late on a Thursday, and it was now almost eight o’clock. Laura’s face lit up,

“Yeah,” she agreed, “That would be nice.” Declan smiled back, though it wavered a little on his face as the memory of the demon came back up in his mind. Laura seemed to notice, “Come on, let’s have coffee, and then we can sort him out.”

They talked easily about what Jackson had been doing at school and how Declan’s younger sister, Angie, had proposed to her boyfriend and how upset she had been when he turned her down only for it to come out that he’d been having an affair.

“She’s flown off to Florida to forget about him and get some ideas for her new health book.” Declan said,

“I loved her other book. Jackson actually agreed to eat something that wasn’t full of sugar.”

“I don’t like them very much,” Declan admitted, “She uses spinach and broccoli too much for my liking.” Laura laughed,

“Didn’t your mum ever tell you to eat your greens?” Declan smiled wryly,

“No, that was mostly my sister.” They finished up their drinks and Declan reluctantly went to unlock the door. Link was laid out on the bed, seemingly asleep, his chest rising and falling even. The room smelled foul, of sweat and urine and Laura wrinkled my nose. “This is my fault.” Declan said quietly as he stepped inside and Laura handed him the zip ties they kept for when demons acted out, which wasn’t very often, all considered. Declan undid the strap on one arm and gently fastened Link’s wrists together while he was still waking. He left one strap on, doing the same with Link’s feet, though the demon kicked out suddenly with a cry. Declan was stronger, though, and he brought Link’s legs together and fastened his ankles,

“Bastard.” Link’s hissed, his voice rough,

“Easy,” Laura said, her tone soothing, “you’re alright.”

“Fuck you.” Link spat back, struggling to get free and then yelling out in frustration when he couldn’t. Declan gave Laura his bag and coat and carefully undid Link’s other straps,

“Watch it,” Laura warned, “He might kick out.”

“I know.” Declan said. Predictably, Link thrashed, hitting out with both his hands at Declan’s head and shoulder as Declan picked him up.

“Get off, get off, get off!” Link was hysterical and Declan was forced to drop him back down on the bed where he froze, staring at Declan wide eyed,

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Declan tried. Link yelled in Declan’s face, making him step back,

“There’s some sedative in the back.” Laura offered, and Declan couldn’t tell whether she was playing bad cop or if it was a genuine offer,

“Link doesn’t need to be sedated, do you?” Link slowly shook his head, “So are you going to stop kicking me?” A slow nod this time, “Alright.” Declan said, bending down to pick Link up again, one arm under the knees, the other behind his back. Link was rigid, but he didn’t move, “Okay, let’s go.” Declan grunted. Link was heavier than he looked. Laura headed out, watching the demon warily,

“You alright?” She asked Declan, “You need to put him down?” Declan shook his head as Laura locked up and then they walked to his car. Declan hesitated,

“What are you doing about your car?” He asked,

“I’ll follow you over. You going to put him in the boot?”

“Not very safe.” Declan said, frowning. He looked down at Link awkwardly, shifting the demon’s weight, his arms aching, “I can trust you to sit in the front, can’t I?”

“Yeah.” The demon’s voice was small.

“Declan…” Laura was frowning as Declan lowered Link down and clipped his seatbelt in.

“It’ll be fine,” He assured her, taking his bags from her and putting them in the back, “I’ll see you at my house, unless you’ve changed your mind? I don’t mind if you want to go home, I think I can manage him.”

“I’m happy to come over. I really don’t trust him.” Declan shrugged,

“Alright then.” He said, pushing the passenger door shut and moving round the other side of his car, “I’ll see you there, then.” He gave her a smile and she tentatively returned it.

The drive home was quiet and uneventful. Link sat motionless and silent after Declan had told his sternly not to make any sudden moves. Declan had reluctantly strapped the shock band onto the leather of the steering wheel, because he felt there was too much of a risk of Link grabbing at the wheel or the handbrake.

Declan pulled into his drive and crunched over the gravel, Laura pulling in behind him in her cerise-pink car. Declan took the leather band off the steering wheel and pushed it back into his pocket before getting out, coming round to lift Link out of the other side. He winced at a twinge in his back and readjusted Link’s weight, making the male tense up. Laura came over quickly to grab his bags and lock his car,

“Thanks.” He grunted, thrown off balance by the almost playful smile thrown his way when Laura moved to slip his keys out of Declan’s trouser pocket. Link was too heavy to allow Declan to think about much more than setting the demon down as soon as possible, so he followed Laura up to his front door and waited impatiently as she fumbled with his door keys and stepped inside, flicking on lights. Declan gratefully put the demon down on one the kitchen chairs and took another cable tie from Laura when she offered it, attaching Link’s hands to the chair back. He could smell urine and grimaced at the slightly yellow colour of the bottom of his work shirt and stepped over to his tumble drier to shift through it for a clean shirt. He had stripped it off and pulled on a t-shirt, bundling up the dirty one to put it in the wash, before he realised that Laura had been looking his way. She blushed and turned away with a muttered apology and Declan moved away to dig through the freezer for a pizza,

“Ham and pineapple okay?” He asked and Laura smiled at him,

“Sure, sounds fine.” Declan put it in the oven and then came back over to where Laura was stood,

“Sorry,” he said, offering to take her coat, “I’m not a very good host, clearly.”

“Don’t worry,” Laura said quickly, “Should I take my shoes off?”

“Only if you want to.” Declan had shucked out of his after he put Link down and she slipped out of her heels now, wiggling her toes. Declan smiled despite himself.

“Bath for him, then?” Laura said and Declan agreed, though he noticed how much Link tensed up. Declan, slowly, got Link upstairs and handed Laura the shock band. He saw the way Link’s eyes followed it,

“Only if he does something dangerous.” Declan said. Laura agreed and Declan could tell she was concentrating. He turned the bath taps on and sat down on the bath mat to cut the ties around Link’s ankles, though only after another agreement that he wouldn’t kick.

“How do you want to do this?” Declan asked Link gently, once the bath had run and was a good temperature, “Would you feel more comfortable with your clothes on?” Link’s expression was a permanent half-glower, though he currently looked a somewhat more worried than vicious,

“I get an actual choice?” Link said coldly. Declan just raised his eyebrows and waited for an answer, “What do you fucking think, pervert,” Link said, suddenly violently vocal, “of course I want to keep my clothes on.” Declan huffed a half-amused, half-exasperated breath and said,

“Fine, then, we’ll do it that way.”

“He’ll drip all over the place,” Laura pointed out, “And get cold.” Declan shrugged,

“He can have towels.”

“It would be easier if he took his jeans off, they’ll take ages to dry.” Declan turned to look at Link, who was stubbornly glowering at the floor,

“Link? What do you want to do?”

“Why can’t you both piss off? Fucking assholes.”

“We can’t leave you alone, Link. You might hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, likely,” Link snapped, “Don’t patronise me, I’m not some snotty kid. I know what perverts like you buy fucked-up demons for.” Declan’s frown deepened,

“You could wait outside, I guess.” Laura suggested, “I could keep an eye on him.”

“You’d prefer that?” Declan asked Link. Link glowered at Declan fiercely and said nothing. Declan put a hand on Laura’s shoulder, “You sure?” She nodded, colour rising in her cheeks. Declan took his hand away, “Have you got the band?” Laura lifted the shock band and Declan went to step out, “Keep it close. And shout if you want me.” He said and then closed the door to sit down on the landing.

He heard Laura talking, Link snapping back sharply, though there seemed to be no cause for alarm. There were the sounds of water after a while and then he heard Link getting out,

“Fuckity fuck its hot.” Declan heard and he smiled, hearing Laura laugh gently from the other side of the door, “What are you laughing at bitch?” Link said and Declan’s smile fell away.

“Declan?”  

“Yeah?” Declan was on his feet instantly,

“Where are the towels?”

“Oh,” the air went out of Declan in a rush of relief. He laughed quietly, “In the cupboard under the sink.” A pause, “You got them?”

“Yeah.” They came out after a moment, both red-cheeked from the steam and Declan looked quickly at Laura,

“You alright? Everything okay?”

“All okay.” She assured him, passing the shock band back to him. “Won’t the pizza be burning?” Declan grimaced,

“Crap.” He said, taking hold of one of the demon’s arms, his wrists still bound, and leading him downstairs, the demon compliant for now. He pulled the slightly charred pizza out the oven and plated it, “Sorry it’s not up to my sister’s standard.” He said weakly, “Do you want some wine, beer?” She refused politely so he cracked open a beer for himself and sat down opposite her, the demon beside him. It was a surreal situation as he alternated between feeding the demon bits of pizza and eating his own portion. Laura ate as eagerly as Declan did and they talked little. Declan finished first, clearing the demon’s plate before swallowing the remainder of his beer and leaning back in his chair with a sigh, “I could fall asleep now.” He muttered, looking over at Laura to see her smiling fondly, “You alright to drive home, or do you want to camp in the guest room?” Laura shook her head and stood, Declan mimicking her, picking up her plate to take it to the sink.

“Stay,” Link said suddenly, coming to his feet fast enough to make Declan regard him warily. The demon’s eyes were locked on Laura, “Stay. He doesn’t want to do anything while you’re here. You don’t know what kind of fucked shit he likes, don’t leave me with him.” Link seemed to be expecting Declan to deny it but Declan only frowned, knowing too well what kind of past Link must have had for the demon to make such assumptions about strangers,

“Declan’s not going-” Laura started gently but Link cut in viciously,

“You don’t fucking know that. How well do you know him, really? You like him, that’s fucking obvious, but people hide their sick sides pretty well. He’s not into you, by the way.” Laura’s stunned expression quickly became embarrassed and Declan winced,

“Laura-”

“It’s fine.” Laura said weakly, “I’ll get over it. Are you- into men or is it just me?” Declan swallowed thickly,

“I like men.” He admitted, searching Laura for judgement,

“Is that what you wanted him for then?” Laura’s voice was steady but icy cold and Declan was shaking his head before she was finished,

“No.” He snapped, “I’m perfectly capable of getting fully _consensual_ sex, thanks a lot. I’m gay, not a rapist.” Laura blinked blearily, wincing,

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I just-”

“You had to check.” Declan filled in coldly, “Yeah, I know.”

“He’s lying,” Link growled, “He didn’t tell you he was gay and he’s lying now, can’t you see it?-”

“Stop it.” Laura cut him off and went to pick up her coat, pushing her feet into her heels, “Declan’s a good man.” She was looking at Declan when she said it and Declan’s expression relaxed into a smile,

“Thanks for coming, Laura.” He said as she went to leave, Link protesting loudly, “And- I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Honestly. Thank you for being- kind.” Declan watched her turn and walk away, heading for her car. He pushed the door closed, turning around to catch a glimpse of wide eyes before Link went to run. Declan caught the demon’s arm and Link went rigid. They were both silent for a moment,

“Link.” Declan said quietly, “I’m not going to do anything.” Link’s lip curled,

“Yeah? Let go of me, then.”

“Will you stay and a listen for a minute if I do?”

“Fine.” Link acquiesced sulkily before jerkily snatching his arm out of Declan’s hold, eyeing him warily. Declan sighed wearily and rubbed his dry eyes,

“There’s a guest bedroom upstairs which you’re free to have, if you want it. Some rules, though,” Link folded his arms, glaring defiantly, “My room and the office are off-limits. You can help yourself to food but don’t eat everything and don’t break any of my belongings. If you’re not sure I’d want you to touch something, then wait to ask me.” Declan paused, “And, obviously, don’t try to run off because there’s a tracker in you and it’ll just be a waste of time for both of us. You have a tracker, right?”

“Are you done?” Link sniped, instead of answering. Declan cleared his throat,

“Don’t attack me. That’s all.”

“Sounds _fair_.” Link said, bitterly sarcastic. Declan huffed a surprised laugh,

“What? You want to give me rules?”

“Sure I do.”

“Go on then.” Declan said, mildly amused, though his amusement fell away as Link glared venomously at him,

“Don’t touch me, actually just don’t come near me. Don’t ‘discipline’ me and don’t humiliate me. Don’t leave me alone with any other sickos and don’t tell me to do any of your fucking housework; I’m not your maid. I’m not your anything. You have no rights to me so don’t act like it.”

“Alright,” Declan said, feeling nauseous and not awake enough to deal with the details of Link’s past, “I get the picture. I don’t go near you and you don’t come near me. Can I go to bed now?” Link blinked at him before he fixed his sneer back in place,

“After you.” He said, gesturing to the stairs. Declan sighed and traipsed upstairs, pointing Link to the guest room before moving to his room and stripping down to his pants before falling into bed, dropping the shock band on his bedside table. He fell asleep almost immediately.

 


	3. Disruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Declan struggle to live together.

Declan’s alarm went off with its characteristically jarring beeping and Declan groaned, rolling over to shut it off. It was still dark, dawn not yet broken, but Declan dragged himself out of bed and flicked on the light, gathering together his work clothes while still barely awake and making his way to the bathroom.

Downstairs, coffee in hand, Declan was finishing up some paperwork he’d meant to get done the night before when Link appeared at the door, staring at Declan suspiciously. Link’s hair was endearingly dishevelled, his clothes rumpled from where he’d clearly slept in them,

“Why the fuck are you awake?” Link demanded and Declan smiled wearily,

“Help yourself to breakfast.” He said, checking his watch before returning to his paperwork.

He could hear the demon rifling through his mostly empty cupboards but ignored it, only glancing up when Link sat down with a jar of peanut butter and proceeded to scoop the paste out with his fingers. Declan took off his reading glasses and frowned,

“Get a spoon.” He said. Link paused with his fingers in his mouth,

“Gonna make me?” He mumbled around his fingers. Declan glared at him, before checking his watch again and standing up to put his work things back into his shoulder bag. He saw Link flinch when he stood but pretended he hadn’t. 

Shrugging on his coat, Declan looked back into the kitchen. He made a note to himself not to eat peanut butter until he’d bought a new jar.

“You’ve got a tracker, haven’t you?”

“Fuck off.”

“Link.” Declan said, exasperated, “Tell me the truth. If I don’t believe you, you’re coming to the clinic with me so I can scan you.” Link stopped linking his fingers to give Declan a filthy scowl,

“Of course I’ve got a tracker, you fucking idiot. We get stabbed with the things when we’re still being pushed out.” Declan grimaced at the image but decided Link was telling the truth,

“Don’t leave the house.” He said,

“Obviously.” Link drawled and Declan frowned. He didn’t like having someone else in his space but there didn’t seem anything to be done about it, unless he was going to ziptie the demon to a radiator. The thought seemed to occur to Link at about the same time because he looked up, “I’m not gonna do anything.” He said angrily and Declan nodded,

“Fine.” He said, “I’ll be back about seven.” Link had returned to his peanut butter,

“I don’t care.” He said and Declan flushed, feeling stupid.

“Don’t make yourself sick on that stuff.” He said gruffly before picking up his bag and stepping out the door. He wouldn’t be surprised if he came home to find Link had made himself ill just to spite Declan.

Laura brought a cup of coffee into his consulting room when he got his first breather of the day, at lunch,

“So how’s the demon?” Laura asked as she handed the mug over. Declan sighed and Laura pulled an amused face, pretending at sympathy, “That bad?” She said, “You could always get a nicely behaved one.” Declan sobered and shook his head, taking a sip of his drink. “What have you got against the training centres, Declan?” Laura asked. 

“They’re not good places.” Declan said grimly and refused to say anything more on the subject. The bell on the reception desk rang and Laura went to go, pausing at the door,

“Are we okay?” She asked, “Still friends, I mean?” Declan looked up,

“Of course.” He said, “If you want, I mean.” Laura smiled,

“Okay. Great.” She said, pulling his door closed.

…

When Declan pulled back up on the drive, it was close to eight and he wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. He pushed the door open, shucking off his coat to hang it up on the hook,

“Link?” He called hesitantly but wasn’t surprised when Link didn’t respond, heading to the kitchen. He made himself tea and ate a sandwich on bread that was too old, though he wasn’t particularly hungry. He did some of the day’s paperwork before collapsing onto the couch to watch the tele. 

Declan didn’t know what woke him but he started suddenly awake to find Link standing over him. He recoiled in surprise to stare at Link, 

“Do you want something?” He asked finally, looking over at the clock, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I want the fucking human race to die of something horrible and painful and for demons to end up in the garden of fucking Eden. But otherwise, your program’s so fucking loud I can’t sleep. Or are you deaf, old man?” Declan raised his eyebrows and pushed himself up to seated with a wince at his stiff back,

“I’m not old.” He protested, though his knees clicked when he stood to turn off the tele, “I’m under thirty.” Link looked unimpressed,

“You look way older.”

“Thanks a lot.” Declan grumbled, straightening his crumpled work shirt to move around Link and head upstairs, “Are you coming?” Link didn’t bother to reply but Declan heard the demon’s footsteps coming up after him and went to bed, passing out for a few more hours sleep before he had to get up again.

…

Link was half-way through a pot of ice cream that Declan didn’t know he had when Declan returned home. Link froze when Declan came into the room to put down his bag and through Link returned to his ice cream as if he didn’t care that Declan was there, Declan could see the tension in the male,

“What have you eaten today?” Declan said, moving over to the fridge and finding little in it. He pulled out a carton of milk and poured it away when he sniffed it. He ended up heating up a packet of rice from the cupboard and tipping it into a bowl.

“Why?” Link said, licking ice cream off his spoon, when Declan sat down, “You didn’t tell me not to eat.” Link’s tone was split between derisive and defensive. Declan rubbed his forehead wearily,

“Of course not,” he said, “but I haven’t got much food in and you can’t live on ice cream.” Link snorted,

“Whatever.” He said, scraping the bottom of the tub.

“What have you been doing all day?”

“Fucking your dog.” Declan snorted, shovelling rice into mouth,

“I don’t have a dog.” He said. “Come on, you must be bored. Do you want books? Have you figured out the TV?” Link scowled at Declan over his ice cream.

“Fuck off.” He said. Declan frowned at him,

“Right.” He said. “Fine.” Declan grimaced as he struggled to swallow a sticky, tasteless mouthful of rice and resolved to buy some proper food. Link stood up suddenly and Declan raised his eyebrows, “Put the tub in the bin, Link.” He said when the demon went to walk away. “Don’t ask if I’m going to make you.” He added tiredly, “I’m just asking.”

“And I’m just refusing.” Link said acerbically and walked off. Declan released a heavy exhale and set his fork down, staring dully at the wall. After a couple of seconds had passed, he blinked and heaved himself to his feet, tipping the remains of his pitiful meal into the bin before rinsing the bowl in the sink. He looked back to Link’s tub on the table and the dirty dishes Link had left in the sink and reluctantly washed them, too. He found that he was too tired to be angry and mechanically did what needed to be done before turning out the kitchen light and making his way slowly up to bed. He stripped out of his work clothes and barely made it to the bathroom to brush his teeth before he collapsed into bed. 

Despite his exhaustion, Declan lay awake for some time, listening to the quiet noises of the night-time house. He heard nothing of the demon he had living in his home and, finally, slipped into unconsciousness.

…

Declan was jerked awake, rising from heavy slumber with a sickening lurch. He could barely make out the outline of his room and, glancing at the clock and finding it to be barely after midnight, could fathom no reason why he’d woken. Running a hand through his unwashed hair, Declan rubbed his face sleepily and slid back down into the latent warmth of his bedcovers. 

He had barely settled again when there was a sudden cry, a distressed whining whimper that made Declan go still, his eyes open on the darkness. He listened. He could hear quiet crying interspersed by noises of hurt that made Declan’s feel sick. It was Link, he knew it was, but he didn’t know what to do. He waited a minute, two, and when the cries didn’t stop, he rose slowly and crossed his room, opening his door to step into the corridor. The monochromatic darkness made Declan’s home feel alien, even more so, the unsettling noises of pain emitted from the guest room. Link’s room, Declan told himself, because Link wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Link?” Declan knocked lightly on the door. The quiet cries seemed to stop for a moment before they resumed and, his heart thumping, Declan knocked again, louder, “Link? Are you alright?” There was a sudden, tense silence and Declan drew away from the door, “Link?” He queried, his voice sounding startlingly loud in the muffled dark.

“Fuck off.” Link’s voice was rough and stifled, holding little of its usual bite. Declan nodded, though no-one would see, and took a step back towards his bedroom.

“Alright.” He said, “Good night.”

“Pervert.” Link’s retort was barely audible and Declan supressed a stab of feeling, hurt or irritation. He moved numbly back to bed and collapsed on to the mattress, slipping almost instantly into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	4. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go bump in the night

When Declan next woke, it was still dark and there was a jerking crunch of something being broken nearby. Declan groaned and squinted into the dark, feeling for the switch on his lamp.

He gave an undignified grunt of surprise when he found Link stood beside the bed, glaring at him defiantly.

“What the hell.” Declan said gruffly, rolling over onto his back, glancing over blearily to check the time, “I still have an hour.” Link said nothing, glaring, and Declan stared at him incredulously, barely awake. “What do you want?” He asked, finally. Link smirked, then, and turned on his heel, walking out without a word. Declan fell back against the covers and, weary as he was, he doubted he’d be able to get any worthwhile sleep between now and his alarm. Grudgingly shoving off his covers, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and started at the feeling of something cold and sharp under his foot. Looking down he saw the broken remains of what he realised was Link’s shock bracelet. Declan stared at the broken pieces for several seconds before shrugging and picking up the broken pieces to drop in the bin. He switched off his alarm while it was still quiet and slowly made his way to the bathroom.

Moving slowly downstairs, the air of the house feeling especially cold after the warmth of his shower, Declan walked into the kitchen to find Link slumped over the table, staring blankly. When Declan entered he rolled his head to focus his gaze on Declan and smirked,

“Enjoy my present?” He said. Declan gave Link a blank look for several seconds and saw the cracks in Link’s bravado show in the flicker of uncertainty that crossed Link’s coldly attractive features. Declan could see that Link was scared of Declan’s reaction; his shoulders were rigid though he pretended at ease but Declan only shook his head wordlessly and found some cereal to eat dry, filling the silence with the noise of the kettle as he made himself tea. When he sat down, he found Link glowering at him.

“What?” Declan said finally, standing up to bring over his work files. He drew out several sheaves of paperwork and set to filling out the necessary forms while he was eating, rummaging through his patient notes.

Link didn’t respond but continued to stare coldly. Declan was too tired to care overly much what was going on in the obscure demon’s mind and didn’t react when Link stood suddenly and moved over towards the kitchen behind Declan. Declan vaguely heard the sound of Link opening a drawer and thought nothing of it.

He flinched at the sudden coldness of a knife edge sliding under his jaw.

“Do I have your attention, now, _Doctor_?” Link spat Declan’s title derisively and Declan was silent. He put down his pen and his hands found the edges of the table as his heart thudded its fear. The metal was coldly undeniable against his throat and Declan knew too well how easily Link could end his life. “Well?” Link snapped, “Nothing to say?” Declan felt the knife tremble and graze against his skin and he tensed to hold himself still.

“What do you want?” Declan said, his Adam’s apple moving against the knife, “I don’t care about the bracelet.”

“Why not?” Declan flinched back when the knife dug into his skin and he hissed, “I could kill you.” Declan almost laughed, though his hands were shaking where he was gripping the table,

“You could have done that before you broke the bracelet.” Declan said, holding his head stiffly, “My door wasn’t locked. Anyone can be taken by surprise.” Declan winced, lifting his chin, when Link dug the knife in further. Declan could feel his fear building, choking him, but he supressed it and focused on the feel of the table under his clenched fingers. “Let go of me.” He said quietly. Link withdrew the knife after a sickening pause and Declan released his grip on the table edge to twist around in his chair to look at Link, confused and uneasy. Link shrugged at him, looking at the smear of Declan’s blood on the knife. He said nothing but seemed to be waiting for Declan’s response. “Put the knife in the sink.” Declan said, touching his fingers to his throat with a wince. Link’s brows lowered and he made no move to do as Declan had said. Declan sighed wearily and turned his back on Link to rest his elbows on the table, dragging his hands through his hair.

After several moments of silence, Declan glanced at the clock crammed another couple of mouthfuls of cereal into his mouth as he packed up his work and stood. He rubbed a hand over his jaw and remembered that he needed to shave. Link was stood motionless, his fingers still clenched tightly around the knife handle. The look in the demon’s eyes scared Declan but he forced himself to turn away, climbing the stairs to drag his razor over his lathered jaw and neck. The feel of the metal against his skin, the cold, metallic glint of it, made Declan’s breathing hitch and he had to pause, bracing his hands against the sink, to collect himself.

After he’d finished shaving, Declan touched the shallow cut Link had made and winced at the sting. It was almost too low on his neck to be passed off as a shaving cut but too high to be hidden by his collar and Declan shook his head at the weary, weak man he saw in the mirror and washed off his face before heading downstairs, collecting his wallet, keys and case of work files. He was unnerved to find that Link hadn’t moved a centimetre.

“I’ll pick up something to eat after work.” He said, opening the door onto the cold morning. Link didn’t respond and Declan closed the door behind him with a heavy nausea in his gut.

…

Declan wasn’t questioned about the cut on his throat, though Laura did ask him quietly if he was sleeping. He told her honestly that Link had had a nightmare and Laura responded sympathetically, though Declan knew she thought Link needed professional help. Remembering Link stood motionless in the kitchen, his eyes empty and the knife lodged in his hold, Declan thought he agreed. Still, he didn’t tell Laura what had happened.

The sharp lights of the shop were glaring in contrast to the darkness of the carpark and Declan squinted at the brightness, automatically picking up a food basket as he moved down into the aisles. Declan didn’t have a list, but picked up whatever he thought might be useful. Milk, bread, cheese, eggs and vegetables went in, alongside a couple of tubs of ice cream and a new pot of peanut butter. He picked up enough basic ingredients for a couple of meals before carrying his heavy basket, a box of cereal under one arm, over to the tills.

“How can I get my demon to like me?” The demon man swiping Declan’s purchases paused to give Declan a perplexed look, “Tolerate me, at least?” Declan corrected. The demon man scanned a box of cereal with a beep,

“I don’t think I’m qualified to answer that, sir.” He said. Declan raised his eyebrows,

“No ideas?” He said, “Nothing?” He realised what he doing was odd but the store was quiet and he was frankly too tired to care. The demon man glanced up at Declan,

“Why wouldn’t they like you, sir?” He said carefully. Declan shrugged.

“I’m human.” He said, “Technically I own him.” The demon man sent Declan a considering look before glancing around the store. It was quiet but for the buzz of the refrigerators and the beeping of the demon man’s scanner. There were a few other shoppers but no-one was paying them any attention,

“Have you given him reason not to like you, sir?” The demon man said finally, his voice quiet. Declan huffed a shocked, humourless laugh.

“I don’t think so.” He said. “I haven’t touched him if that’s what you mean.” He rested his hands against the counter wearily. “He keeps antagonising me. I don’t know what to do.” The demon man finished scanning in Declan’s items,

“That’s forty-nine sixty.” He said and Declan pulled out his wallet. The demon man continued in a quieter tone, “If he’s antagonising you, sir, then I would imagine he’s unsure of his boundaries.” Declan met the demon man’s gaze,

“Your advice?” He said, passing over three twenties.

“I don’t know, sir.” The demon man said as he found Declan’s change, “Perhaps you could tell him what’s unacceptable, so he can avoid it.” Declan accepted his change and shook his head.

“I tried that. He deliberately broke the rules.” The demon man seemed to be on the edge of saying something but glanced behind Declan’s shoulder. Declan turned to follow his gaze and saw a man dressed in the store’s uniform wandering down the aisles. Declan pointed to a packet of mints behind the demon man. “Those too.” He said, “What were you were going to say?” The demon scanned the mints, glancing over at the store employee, possibly the manager, before answering Declan,

“I think he’s waiting for you punish him, sir.” Declan’s eyebrows rose incredulously and the demon man shrugged, “He’s probably trying to get a measure of you.”

“And if I don’t punish him?”

“He’ll either settle down, or he’ll keep pushing. Maybe you could talk to him? That’s sixty pence, please, sir.” Declan passed over a coin, accepting the mints with his mind on other things.

“Thanks.” Declan said, pocketing them. The demon man gave him a weak smile,

“Good luck, sir.” The demon man said. Declan nodded, picking up his bags and heading out into the cold.

It was closer to nine than to eight by the time Declan unlocked the front door with the shopping bags cutting into the flesh of his palms. Link was lying on the living room couch, staring at the TV dully. He glanced round when Declan put his head round the door but didn’t rouse himself and Declan left him there, putting the food bags down in the kitchen.

Once he’d changed out of his work clothes, Declan made some simple omelettes with red pepper and mushrooms and brought a plate through to give to Link. The demon glanced at it derisively and refused to take it. Declan glanced down at the plate,

“What’s wrong with it?” He said.

“You made it.” Link said, his eyes staying locked on the screen. Declan had nothing to say to that and so left to put the plate down with an irritated clatter on the kitchen counter. He sat down at the table to swallow his own food, washing it down with beer. He remained there in the silence for several moments after he’d finished, listening to the noise of the TV in the next room. He felt unaccountably lonely despite the fact that, for the first time in several years, he was no longer living alone. Instead he had someone in his home who’d put a knife to his neck that morning.

Declan groaned aloud, forcing himself to his feet to step through to the living room, the food lying heavy and buttery in his stomach.

“We need to talk.” Declan said, glancing over the clock. Link ignored him and though Declan knew Link was pushing him, seeking a reaction, Declan still had to fight not to snap at the demon. He stepped over to the TV to shut it off and turned to find Link’s eyes locked on him with heavy loathing. Declan’s skin itched under such scrutiny and he avoided meeting Link’s gaze as he took a seat. “Was this morning a onetime occurrence or is something like that going to happen again?” He said, “Link?” Link glared flatly in silence. Declan sighed, “Talk to me, Link. What are you thinking? What am I doing wrong?” Link’s eyebrows seemed to twitch higher at Declan’s words,

“You bought me.” Link said. Declan waited for Link to expand and was met with silence.

“Yes.” Declan said finally.

“Why? Maid? Cook? Fuck-toy?”

“I thought we’d got past this.” Declan said, “I’m not going to touch you. You blatantly disregarded what I asked of you but your rules were pretty damn clear.”

“So why then?”

“It was a whim, an impulse. I don’t know.”

“Thought I’d bruise prettily?” Declan was split between anger and disbelief,

“Where do you get this shit from?”

“How the fuck did you get to be a doctor?” Link responded derisively, “You’re damn stupid.” Declan shook his head,

“And you got that from where?”

“You being a dumb-ass?” Link got to his feet and Declan eyed the demon warily as Link came towards him, “Maybe because I stuck a knife under here,” he jabbed Declan’s neck with his finger and Declan closed his hand around Link’s wrist defensively, halting Link’s hand. Link startled at the contact and then smirked, “Oops.” He said, attempting to pull his arm from Declan’s grip, “You broke one of my rules. Do I get to punish you?”  Declan released Link slowly, staring at him. The demon was stood over him and the proximity unnerved Declan.

“I haven’t punished you.” Declan said, frowning. Link shrugged,

“You could. You can.” He said.

“I won’t.” Declan said. Link pointed at Declan,

“And that is why you’re stupid.” Declan put his elbows on his knees,

“Because I won’t beat you.” He said dully, “Right, great. Thanks for the feedback.”

“Wow.” Link said, “Was that humour?”

“No.” Declan said. He stood up. “I’m going to bed. Don’t come into my room.”

“It’s like eight o’clock.” Link said, “How old are you? What if I want to blow you or something?”

“What?” Declan stared at Link. It crossed his mind that the demon was insane and he found that he cared less than he should have.

“I can come in your room if I want sex, though.”

“No.” Declan said, “Don’t come in my room. Respect my space like I’m respecting yours.”

“Oh get you!” Link yelled as Declan was leaving. Declan paused just outside of the door, “An idiot and a prude.” Link muttered and Declan huffed a breath in irritation and sloped upstairs to his room.


	5. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Declan and Link discuss some home truths

“Don’t go through my things.” Declan said after going to change after breakfast and finding some of things had been misplaced, his drawers left open.

“I forgot your name.” Link said. He’d melted several slices of cheese onto bread and proceeded to eat them for breakfast, leaving a sticky mess in the oven that Declan had no doubt Link would refuse to clear up.

“It’s Declan.”

“Yeah, I found your wallet.”

“And my cigarettes, apparently.” Declan said. He could smell the smoke lingering and it was making his fingers twitch.

“You’re a fucking weird doctor.”

“I gave up.” Declan said, shrugging. “I didn’t care much about my health when I was younger.”

“I really don’t care.” Link said. Declan focused on eating his cereal and didn’t respond. Link pulled a face at the cheese he was eating, “This stuff is shit.” Declan told himself not to get irritated and said instead,

“What cheese do you want then?” Link just shrugged,

“The stuff that actually tastes nice.”

“Right.” Declan said. “What did your last owner feed you?”

“Nobody owns me.” Link said coldly.

“What did you used to eat?” Declan pressed.

“Fucking caviar.” Link snapped, “And little fancy canapés with bottles of bubbly shit.” He shoved his chair back, making Declan start and Link smirked, “You’re all jumpy.” He said, “Wonder why that is.” Declan didn’t reply, carrying on eating though he’d lost his appetite.

“How old are you?” Declan asked.

“Why? Do you only fuck kids?” Declan stood up to throw away the rest of his cereal, pausing when he saw the momentary flash of fear cross Link’s face before it was gone, replaced by a sneer. “Hit the nail on the head, haven’t I?”

“No.” Declan said, putting his bowl in the dishwasher, “I was just wondering.”

“Were you also wondering-?” Declan could feel his temper flaring,

“Link, stop it. Stop pushing.” Link raised his eyebrows and fixed his strangely intense gaze on Declan. The demon opened his mouth, the mouth that spewed such hateful, hurtful things, but Declan cut him off, “I’m not your previous owners. Just stop pushing me all the time, Link. Please.” Link looked disgusted,

“Please?” He mimicked, “You’re pathetic, _Declan_. Do you get off on being walked over? Do you like clearing up after me? You’re fucking tragic, saying ‘we need to talk’ and ‘I’m too much of a fucking prude to actually fuck anyone’.” Declan put his bowl down where it was and tried to walk away, but Link blocked his way, “Where are you going? Running away, little rabbit? Can’t even look at your own fucking property?” Declan tried to move past but Link wouldn’t let him,

“Let go.” Declan said. He could feel the familiar panic rising in him, surging up his throat and pushed it away. But Link’s hands were tight on his arms and Link’s furious face was too close to him, “Stop it.” Declan’s voice broke humiliatingly as he tried to pull his arms from Link’s grip. Link pulled up short,

“Are you going to cry?” He said, half-way between mocking and incredulous. He gave Declan a light push and Declan took a step backwards, curling his arms protectively around his ribs when Link released him. Declan turned away from Link to hide how much Link’s words affected him, “Humans are so fucking fragile.” Link said, but the edge in his voice had gone. Declan took a shaking breath and found that Link was staring at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Link said, “Why aren’t you-” he waved his hands at Declan’s body, “fighting me?” Declan exhaled a bitter laugh without answering and when he went to move past Link, Link made no move to prevent him. “You’re as fucked up as I am.” Link shouted after him as Declan was climbing the stairs. Declan shook his head silently and sank down onto his bed.

…

When Declan next woke, the phone was ringing and the light outside had almost entirely faded. Declan staggered to his feet and made his way downstairs, picking up the phone on its last ring,

“Declan speaking.” He said, his voice rough.

“Declan?” Declan frowned,

“Yeah?” He said, clearing his throat,

“You okay?” The voice on the other end was female.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Laura.”

“Oh.” Declan said, “Sorry. I was asleep.”

“Sorry.” Laura said, “Are you ill?”

“No.” He rubbed his head, “A bit, maybe.”

“I was just asking if you wanted to go out for Saturday drinks like usual. But if you’re sick, it doesn’t matter.” Declan was silent, “I guess I’ll see you Monday, then.”

“I- yeah, alright. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Laura laughed quietly, “You can’t help it. Get better, then.”

“Thanks.” Declan said, hanging up.

“Who fucked you up, then?” The sound of Link’s voice made Declan start violently and he twisted around to see Link standing in the threshold of the room.

“What do you care?” Declan said.

“Hey, hold up.” Declan flinched when Link went to touch him and Link seemed to freeze for a moment, “Okay, no touching.” Link said, oddly contrite, “Tell me what happened.” Declan gave Link a dull stare. He really didn’t want to be interrogated about his past in a doorway.

“I’m going to make dinner.” He said. Link raised his eyebrows and Declan sighed, “You can ask me while I’m making it.” Link reluctantly stepped aside and Declan made his way to the kitchen, looking sternly into the fridge before pulling out the basic ingredients for pasta and tomato sauce.

Link was practically twitching with impatience while Declan was cutting onions but Declan ignored him. He knew Link would start questioning him soon enough.

“So,” Link started,

“We’re doing a question each.” Declan cut in, “If you want to dig through my past, you can answer some of my questions, too.” Link looked instantly wary.

“Fuck off.” He said, “I’m not.” Declan shrugged and didn’t reply.

“Come on,” Link said, “Just tell me.” Declan dragged a hand under his stinging eyes as he finished up doing the onions and tipped them into a pan. He startled when there was suddenly a hand on his crotch,

“Get off.” Declan snapped, stepping away, the knife still held in his hand. Link looked confused and held his hands up,

“No touching.” He said slowly, like he couldn’t understand it, “Like at all. Have you even had sex?”

“What happened at your previous owner’s?” Declan said, glaring at Link, “What happened to the guy? Why did you break the bracelet? Why do you keep pushing me for a reaction?” Link stared at Declan,

“You first.” He said finally, “And if I don’t want to answer, I won’t.”

“I know.” Declan said, returning to his pasta sauce to tip in a can of skinned tomatoes. “Yes, I’ve had sex. But not for four years.” Link gave Declan a look of exaggerated outrage,

“Four years?” He repeated, “What are you, a fucking monk?” Declan’s shoulders were tense and he consciously forced himself to relax them.

“What did you do at your last owner’s?” Declan said. Link closed his mouth with an audible click and Declan saw a muscle clench at his jaw.

“I did housework and got fucked.” He said. “What happened to you?” Declan was silent for several seconds, reeling with Link’s brutally short summary. It was almost exactly what Declan had suspected, but it was different to hear it aloud.

“A man called Lewis Vaira.” He said finally, “We were in a relationship for six years.” Declan kept stirring the simmering pasta sauce as he tipped dry pasta into a pan of boiling water. Link snorted,

“So what? Was he a bit rough? A bit touchy-feely?” Declan realised he’d tensed up again. He hated talking about this. Going through it all with Laura once had been bad enough.

“He raped me.” Declan said, trying to keep himself as distanced from what he was saying as he could. He focused on stirring the pasta, keeping it from sticking to the bottom. “Why were you left with that woman? What happened to the guy who’d had you before?” In his periphery, Declan saw Link shrug,

“He had an affair and fucked off. Didn’t want me to mess up his new relationship, I guess, but he still came back to fuck me when he got bored.”

“And his ex-wife allowed it?”

“She didn’t care. Why didn’t you just leave?” Declan put his hands to the counter and tried to steady his breathing. Link’s words were so brutally efficient. It didn’t help that Declan knew Link had been through something worse, it just made Declan feel weak that he was still so broken-up about what had happened. “This stresses you out a lot, doesn’t it?” Link said. Declan grunted,

“I didn’t leave because he made me believe I couldn’t.” Link gave Declan a disbelieving stare,

“You could have just walked out the door.” Declan laughed humourlessly.

“To what?” He said, “My job was there, my friends. I had a house. Most of my savings were in his name.”

“So?” Link snapped, “He did something you didn’t like, you could just _go_. No-one would have like electrocuted _you_.”

“Because I deserved it.” Declan said quietly, “Because he didn’t mean it. Because he loved me. There was a lot of reasons, Link.”

“That’s bullshit.” Link snorted, “You don’t hit someone you love.” Declan gave Link a sideways smile,

“Yeah, well, it’s not as simple as that.”

“What happened then? You just got smart one day and fucked off?” Declan tested the pasta and found it cooked, pouring away the excess water before plating it up.

“No.” Declan said. “I had to go to hospital and he was arrested for domestic abuse. I lied for him but it made no difference. He’s got about two months left.” Declan ignored Link’s stare and pushed a plate of pasta into Link’s hands before moving over to the table,

“Cheese?” Link said,

“Only the stuff you don’t like.” Declan said, gesturing to the fridge. Link shrugged,

“It wasn’t actually that bad.” He said and Declan laughed weakly when Link went to fetch it,

“What’re you laughing at, prick?” Link said, almost reflexively.

“You.” Declan said, finding his appetite returning.

“You eat like a pig, you know that?” Link said. Declan paused,

“Sorry.” He said. Link snorted.

“I don’t care.” He said, “Just thought you should know.”

“Because you care.” Declan said. Link barked a laugh,

“Yeah.” He said, “I totally fucking care.” Declan smiled briefly across the table and continued to eat like a starving man. “So why’d you lie for him?” Declan’s stomach seemed to tighten and he swallowed around a mouthful of food, putting down his fork,

“I couldn’t say ‘no’ to him.” Declan shrugged.

“Sounds healthy.” Link said. “So what’s going to happen in two months?” Link asked.

“Why did you threaten me with a knife?” Link frowned at Declan,

“Why not?” He said, “Wanted to see if you’d break.”

“Why?” Declan said incredulously, “Why couldn’t you just leave it be?”

“What’s going to happen in two months when that fucking asshole comes out of prison?”

“I don’t know.” Declan admitted. Link put his fork down with a clatter, his plate cleared,

“You don’t _know_?” He repeated, “So if he just turns up at your door you’re just going to fucking let him in?”

“No.” Declan said.

“Thought you couldn’t say ‘no’ to him.” Link said snidely. Declan felt him shoulders begin to hunch up.

“Don’t use my words against me.” He said quietly. He looked up to meet Link’s eye, “I know it wasn’t healthy. I know he did some stuff wrong. But I loved him. There were good days. I wasn’t easy to live with. You know I work a lot.”

“You’re crazy.” Link said, “Like properly. He raped you and put you in fucking hospital and _you_ weren’t easy to live with?”

“You weren’t there.” Declan said, “I provoked him.”

“Like I annoyed you?” Link retorted, “Would it be fine for you to do that shit to me?”

“It was different.” Declan said.

“No its not.” Link said, standing up. “You want me to blow you before bed? I’m pretty fucking good.” Declan stared at Link.

“No.” He said, catching a flash of something like hurt on Link’s features.

“Am I not abusive enough?” Link spat. It was defensive, Declan knew, hurting Declan because he’d been rejected.

“I own you.” Declan said, moving over to the sink to rinse his plate, “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“So what?” Link said, “I have to be a monk as well?” Declan rubbed the headache behind his eyes,

“Why would you even want to have sex with me?” Declan said. Link was ominously silent,

“Like why do I want have sex with _you_?” Link said, “Or like, why do I want to have sex at all?”

“Both.”

“Have you looked in a mirror?” Link said, “Not to like flatter your ego or anything, but I’d fuck you.”

“Clearly.” Declan said, “And anything that moves.” Link scowled violently,

“Fuck off.” He said, “Don’t judge me. Sex feels good.” He shrugged, “I don’t fucking care who does it as long as I get off.”

“And this man who owned you, you liked that?” Link’s expression was difficult to read, angry and closed off,

“Not always.” He said sharply, “But yeah, so what if I did? It was a shitty situation.”

“I’m not blaming you.” Declan said, “I just- didn’t find it the same.” Link tilted his head and Declan winced, knowing that Link would want to know more.

“Why not?” Link said.

“If you must know,” Declan said, “it was painful.”

“So why did you fucking do it?” Link said, “ _You_ weren’t tied up, were you?” Link’s statement became a question at the end and Declan rubbed a hand over his eyes. His hands were shaking and he knew his cheeks were flushed. It was so humiliating to talk about.

“I wanted to make him happy. It didn’t matter what I wanted.” Link’s eyebrows rose again,

“So were you tied up?”

“Sometimes.” Declan said coldly. Gods, he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “I’m going to bed.” Link made a disgruntled noise,

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but just let me suck you off. Did he do that?”

“At the start.” Declan said tightly,

“It feels good. Come on, I want to.”

“I don’t-”

“Come on, Declan,” Link whined, “if you think I’m fucking ugly you can close your eyes.”

“You’re not.” Declan said. “At all. But why?” Link made a noncommittal face,

“It gets me off too.” He said.

“I don’t want to.” Declan said, “I just don’t.” Link pouted.

“Just give me a fucking chance.” He said, “If you don’t like it, I’ll fuck off and jack off in the bathroom and you can carry on being celibate and miserable.” Declan’s lips twitched up despite himself.

“I’ll be upstairs.” He said.

“I’ll coming!” Link said, following him, “Or you’ll just get all fucking stressed and bottle it.”

“Probably.” Declan said and heaved himself upstairs to sit down on the bed.


	6. Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Declan struggles to relax so Link lends a friendly hand.

“Where do you want me?” He asked, clenching his hands into fists before releasing them. Link shot him an odd look,

“Relax.” He said, “Do whatever you want. I’ll adapt.”

“You sure-”

“Yes I’m fucking sure. You’re like the least forceful person I have ever met. Chill out.” 

“Alright.” Declan said. He sat down stiffly on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t at all aroused, only nervous and embarrassed. Link flicked out the light and Declan tensed. “I want the bedside light on.” He said, furious at himself for sounding like a child but knowing that he would likely panic if he couldn’t watch and anticipate what was happening. He didn’t know why he’d agreed to this. 

The bedside lamp was turned on and Declan flinched when he saw Link crouching in front of him,

“Hey, breathe.” Link said, “God, you’re all fucking tense. I mean it’s hot; you’ve got a fuck-ton of cool arm muscles. But you also look like you’re about to pass out. Which isn’t hot.” Declan found Link’s talking distracting and he relaxed minutely. 

“Can you- I mean- doesn’t matter.” Link put his hands on Declan’s knees and looked up at him,

“What do you want?” He said, “What were you gonna say?”

“Just, you could take your shirt off. If you wanted to.” Link laughed and pulled back to strip off his shirt. Declan felt the first stirrings of lust at the sight, reaching out slowly to touch Link’s bare shoulder. He barely brushed Link’s skin but the feeling was like an electric shock and Declan shifted as he hardened in his pants. Link laughed quietly,

“So you are actually gay.” He said. “You could return the favour, you know.” Declan tensed, hunching his shoulders,

“What do you mean?” He said warily. He didn’t want to give Link a blow job. Just the thought put him on edge.

“Taking your shirt off.” Link said easily, “I bet you’re like all hairless. But all muscly.”

“You’d be disappointed.” Declan said, tugging off his shirt. Link’s eyes widened,

“Fuck.” He said, “You’re fucking hot.” Declan was startled, glancing down at himself,

“But-” Link put a hand on Declan’s chest,

“You’ve got all this perfect hair which is weirdly dark considering you’re blond and all, but, like those pecs.” He ran his fingernail over Declan’s nipple and Declan’s hips twitched up embarrassingly. “Oh.” Link said with a wicked grin, “The monk is sensitive. Fuck, why do you even wear a shirt? If I was Laura, I would have jumped you ages ago.”

“I’m gay.” Declan said, his tongue feeling heavy and stupid as Link undid his fly and tugged at his jeans.

“Maybe God does exist.” Link said and Declan laughed quietly, biting back a groan when Link rubbed a thumb over his cock through his underwear. “At least someone’s excited.” Link eased off Declan’s pants and Declan cringed. He wanted to cover himself, curl up away from cruel eyes. Link ran his hand up Declan’s length and Declan fought to keep himself still. His erection had flagged and Link made a disappointed noise, looking up to meet Declan’s eyes, “Touch me, Declan.” He said, “Stop thinking.”

“I’m trying.” Declan said but he did tilt forwards to curl his hand over Link’s shoulder, “You’re beautiful.” He said quietly.

“We’re not teenagers.” Link said snidely, “But thanks.” Link lifted himself up to press his lips to Declan’s in a clash of teeth and tongue. Declan responded with a groan, his hands moving over Link’s skin reverently. He had to pull back to catch his breath for a moment and Link rubbed his thumbs over Declan’s nipples again, making Declan buck up into Link’s hand.

“Fuck.” He said. Link smirked and crouched down to close his mouth around Declan’s cock. Declan felt a jolt of inexplicable, violent fear and he pulled himself away, terrified for a moment that Link would hold him there, restrain him.

“Easy.” Link said, looking up at Declan with confusion evident on his face, “Did I fuck up?” Declan shook his head quickly,

“My fault.” He said, “Sorry.” 

“Hey.” Link’s voice was the softest Declan had heard it and Declan stared at the demon. He really was beautiful, his eyes wider and darker than a human, his mouth pouting and swollen from their kiss. Focusing on Link helped Declan to relax, especially when Link trailed a warm hand up and down Declan’s thigh, soothing him.

“Sorry.” Declan repeated.

“Fuck off,” Link said fondly, “You’re fine. It’s fine. Look, you’ve perked up a bit.” Declan did glance down and laughed at Link’s expression. When Link went again to take Declan in his mouth, Declan took a breath and focused on Link’s dark hair and the pleasure he was feeling, the flex of Link’s shoulder blades. 

Declan groaned and struggled to keep his hips still. It had been an embarrassingly long time since he’d even got himself off, let alone done it with anyone else. Link dispelled Declan’s anxiety when he came up for air, his cheeks flushed. His wet lips were stretched in a proud smile,

“Told you I was fucking good.” He said. Declan smiled, too,

“You are.” He agreed, “Fucking good.” Link’s smile turned predatory,

“You’re filthy when you swear.” He purred, kneeling up to kiss up Declan’s torso, rasping his tongue over Declan’s nipple so that Declan shuddered, his cock hardening further under Link’s clever fingers. When Link returned to Declan’s cock, he knelt with his knees spread, his own cock clearly interested in what was happening. Link would want Declan to reciprocate, wouldn’t he? “What is it now?” Link said, putting a hand to Declan’s jaw, “Your brow gets all fucking wrinkly when you’re worrying.” 

“Will you- are you expecting me to reciprocate?” Declan cringed inwardly at his words. He sounded so selfish. Link frowned up at him and Declan’s shoulders curled at the demon’s displeasure.

“No.” Link said, “That wasn’t the deal. Just fucking enjoy it, Declan. Seriously, stop beating yourself up.” Declan laughed dryly, which turned into a strangled gasp when Link sucked hard at his cock and made his hips buck.

“Fucking hell, Link.” Declan groaned and Link’s eyes flashed at him, pleased. Link’s head bobbed as he slid his tongue over Declan’s cock, swallowing him with obvious skill. Declan thought vaguely that he’d never been that good at giving head but the thought passed over in the haze of pleasure and Declan rocked into the motion of Link’s motions, though he was careful not to move too fast or press forwards. The fear of choking still haunted him and he pushed it away, forcing him to concentrate on the swipe of Link’s tongue over the slit of his cock. 

Declan moaned aloud, pushing his hands into the bedcovers as he neared the edge, the pleasant, persistent ache building,

“I’m going to-” Declan tried to push Link’s shoulders away but Link stubbornly clung on, milking Declan’s cock, Declan’s head lolling forwards as he came with a broken moan. His fingers clenched on Link’s shoulders, the ends of Link’s hair brushing the backs of his hands as he shuddered through his climax, Link’s mouth suckling at his softening cock.

He sat, panting and boneless, for several seconds before Link slowly pulled off, making Declan groan, shifting uncomfortably at the stimulation.

“Good?” Link said, his voice rough and Declan smiled drowsily. 

“Fuck.” He said, bending down to take Link’s lips, kissing him lightly. “Amazing.”

“I know.” Link grinned. He planted a sarcastic kiss on the head of Declan’s cock, smiling when Declan breathed in sharply. Link got to his feet awkwardly, his cock prominent through his jeans and near level with Declan’s face. Declan glanced up at Link, aware of his vulnerability for a single, uncertain moment, before Link stepped away and, stripping off his jeans as he went, headed for the bathroom. Declan guiltily let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...?


	7. Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day starts well but doesn't continue that way...

_(Sunday)_

Declan woke to lips pressing against his. He yielded, his eyes opening slowly as a tongue probed at his mouth.

“Link?” He mumbled. Link, straddling Declan’s thighs, pushed his lips against Declan’s and groaned, his cool hands exploring Declan’s upper body. Declan stilled, aware suddenly that Link’s bodyweight was pinning him to the mattress and he gently put his hand to Link’s bare chest, uneasily pulling his head away. Link pulled back immediately with a smirk on his face.

“Morning, morning-breath.” He said. Declan slowly mirrored Link’s smile,

“Hey.” He said, sitting up to recapture Link’s pink mouth but Link moved off the bed to stand, his bare feet endearing.

“I don’t do affection.” Link informed him, “Not at ass o’clock in the morning, anyhow.” Declan sat up.

“That wasn’t affection?” Declan smiled.

“That was your wake-up alarm.” Link said, “You’ve slept a fuck-ton, time to wake up and smell the coffee, lazy fucker.”

“There’s coffee?” Link laughed at Declan’s expression,

“There will be when you make it.” He said and disappeared downstairs. Declan’s lips twitched into a smile and he followed Link to the kitchen. Link spooned jam, caster sugar and yogurt into a bowl and proceeded to lick the stuff off a spoon and then out of the bowl. Declan grimaced, though he watched Link clean his sticky fingers with his tongue with a kind of fascination accompanied by arousal. He couldn’t help but remember Link crouching between his calves, his dark eyes looking up, smirking.

Link, giving the pad of his finger a final lick, obviously knew exactly what he was doing as he looked up at Declan,

“Last night didn’t mean anything to you, did it?” Link said carelessly.

“Did it mean something to you?” Declan didn’t know what their bizarre relationship meant to the demon, nor what Link had been looking for last night, except to prove a point. The nonchalant manner Link used to speak about intimacy was alien to Declan. They had only known one another a few days and yet he was the first person Declan had touched like that in such a very long time.

Link was looking at him sideways, for once silent. Declan rinsed his bowl under the tap and put it in the dishwasher.

“It was fine.” He said finally. Declan was tentatively hopeful. It was not the resounding denial he had expected.

“I know that-” Declan started slowly. Link cut him off by standing up from the table with a noisy scrape of his chair,

“You know what, human,” he said sharply, “I don’t want to know. We didn’t even fuck.” Declan put the bowl down with a clink.

“You were the one that asked.” He reminded Link coldly as he headed out of the kitchen.

“Didn’t mean I wanted a fucking essay on it!” Link yelled as Declan was climbing the stairs. He didn’t reply, but only sighed quietly and continued towards the bathroom. He was still testing the temperature of the water when he heard an angry yowl like a cat and the smash of broken china from downstairs. Declan took his time finishing washing.

When he came back downstairs, Declan found the pink-smeared shards of Link’s breakfast bowl on the floor and Link nowhere in sight. Glancing around the kitchen, Declan caught sight of the demon through the rain-splattered window. The pale nape of Link’s neck stood out beneath his dark hair and the uppermost knot of Link’s spine protruded visibly above the collar of one of Declan’s t-shirts. The force of Link’s presence made Declan forget how narrow and sharp the demon was. Even though he was close to Declan’s height, Declan had been able to lift Link into and out of his car. Declan wondered briefly if there was a possibility Link’s thinness was from a medical cause. Or whether his previous owner just hadn’t fed him enough.

Declan didn’t know if Link had gone out into the tiny, unkempt back garden because he was obeying some animal instinct to retreat from Declan after his insolence, or if he was merely seeking the mid-morning sun and the new, damp air.

And he didn’t know what to do with the broken bowl. The stubborn dregs of his pride smarted at always cleaning up after Link, but he knew that his reaction, his anger, was what Link was pushing for.

Sex and housekeeping, Link had said. What had the bastard done to him, to leave Link so iron-willed, cynical and angry? It was like Declan was seeing the wall without knowing what weapons had been fired at it nor what it had been built to defend. Whatever Link claimed, Declan had seen the black look that came into Link’s eyes sometimes and, had Link been human, Declan would have suspected PTSD. But demons didn’t have disorders or ongoing diseases; they were replaced.

Declan put his hand to the counter and kneaded his forehead. Even with all the sleep he’d had, he was still weary. The surgery was in desperate need of another doctor so that he could ease back to hours that allowed for more sleep.

The back door banged open, making Declan jump and his heart jump in his chest. Link stormed inside, coming to a sudden, rigid stop when he saw Declan. They stared at one another for a moment before a slow smile crept over Link’s face,

“Boo.” He said and took a quick little step towards Declan. Declan took at instinctive step backwards, his foot knocking the cabinet behind him, and Link laughed. “Frightened, little rabbit?” he said, “You wouldn’t put your cock in my mouth now, would you?” Declan felt what was like a tightness in his arms and chest and he had to force himself not to react.

“You’re an asshole.” He snapped. Link rolled his eyes with an expression that said that Declan was stupid, even by human standards.

“Aw come on,” he drawled, “Fucking lighten up a little, little scared rabbit.”

“Fuck off.” Link ignored him.

 “Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.” His singing voice was soft, taunting. “Don’t let the demon have his fun, fun, fun. He’ll get by-” Declan forced himself to walk away, “-without his rabbit pie,” Declan didn’t know why Link was being so cruel, perhaps as a counterbalance to his tenderness the night before, but it still hurt.

A hand, smaller than Lewis’s but claw-like and determined, gripped Declan’s arm hard enough to bruise,

“Come on, Declan, don’t you want some revenge?” Declan wrenched himself free and grabbed his coat from the hall, “Laura was right,” Link continued, relentless as a freight train, “you should have bought a demon with manners. She knew you were too weak for _me_. Lewis knew you well, didn’t he? And he tried to make you stronger.” Declan picked up shoes from the side and shoved his bare feet inside. He couldn’t listen to this. “But it didn’t work, did it? Look at you, trembling, running away again. What you gonna do, Declan? Cry?”

Declan glanced over his shoulder at Link as he opened the front door. Link was stood at the doorway of the kitchen, staring like he wanted to smash Declan’s head against the wall.

“Dr, eh, Niasheim?” A voice from the porch.

“Nӕsheim.” Declan corrected automatically, turning around to find a man and a woman dressed in suits, the man carrying a briefcase, looking at him with polite professionalism. “I was just going out.” Declan said tightly, angry at Link, and hurt. He frowned at them, “I’m not interested in buying anything.”

“We’re here to follow up the possible malfunction of a C&C wristband,” the woman said, “sold by the company we represent, Wiser. The wristband is sold with five-years’ service coverage and although it is clear that the demon has changed hands, the warrantee still stands.”

“I see.” Declan managed. The man frowned lightly at him,

“We would also like to impress upon you the importance of registering your new ownership of the demon within the next three days, sir. Keeping an unregistered demon on your property is a governmental offense and you could incur prison time.”

“How did you find us, then?” Declan said.

“There is GPS in the wristband, sir, although, don’t worry, it’s only activated for servicing and in times of emergency.”

“But how did you know my name?”

“It’s the name the house is registered to.”

“If this is a bad time for you,” The woman said, seeming to pick up on Declan’s hostility, “we can come back later.” The man nodded supportively.

“Have you got ID?” Declan said finally, half-hoping they didn’t. Laminated cards were produced with picture ID. “You’d better come in then.” He relented and led them towards the kitchen, remembering only at the last minute that Link’s broken bowl was still there, “Oh,” he said, stopping suddenly, “We’d better go to the sitting room. My demon broke a bowl and I doubt he’s cleared it up yet.” He sat them down in the front room and awkwardly offered them coffee.

“May we see the demon’s wristband?” The woman said, after refusing the coffee.

“Yes,” Declan said, laying his coat over a chair. Link had sensibly removed himself and was keeping quiet. “But I don’t think it’s his that’s the problem.”

“Oh?”

“Mine wouldn’t work. It was being glitchy and I got frustrated and broke it. I suppose you won’t cover it since it was my fault.”

“If it was malfunctioning previous to you damaging it, sir, it may be covered. Could we see the two wristbands?”

“I think I put the broken one in the bin.” Declan said. “I’ll have to go and see. Wait here, please.” Declan traipsed upstairs and into his room to poke around in his bedroom bin. He found the crunched-up remains of the device and picked them out. Link had thoroughly wrecked it.

“What’s happening?” Link’s voice, close behind Declan, startled him,

“Hell, you made me jump.” Declan said, standing up, before quickly stepping back when he saw what was in Link’s hand. Link’s eyes flickered down to the fragments of the wristband in Declan’s hand,

“What are you doing with that?” Link said, lethally focused and deadly serious. He was scared, Declan realised. “Who are they? Send them away.” Declan clenched his jaw.

“They’re from the wristband company-” he said. Link’s face twisted in anger and he came forwards with the knife in hand. Declan backed up quickly, “Link, I never called them. Their machines picked up a malfunction or something. I told them I broke the bracelet. I’ll deal with it. Calm down.” Link very slowly lowered the knife. Declan didn’t ask him to drop it. “I need to go back downstairs, they’re waiting for me. They want to see you too.” He glanced at Link, “You should pretend to limp. I told them you broke a bowl in the kitchen.”

“What did you fucking do that for?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say.” Declan snapped and turned away to walk downstairs. Link blocked his way. “What is it now?”

“They give you a new bracelet and you give it to me.” He let Declan see him putting the kitchen knife into a slit he’d cut in the lining of his jacket, “Otherwise I’ll fucking gut you.” Declan said nothing, only glared. Link grabbed Declan’s collar, “Do you fucking understand me?” Declan met Link’s eyes,

“What use would I have for it?” He spat, heavy with irony. Link pushed Declan away and let go of his shirt, before bowing sarcastically,

“After you, good sir.”

“How kind.” Declan growled and descended the stairs with heavy steps. The thought of the knife Link was carrying lingered in his mind and he glanced back at the demon once, warningly, before entering the sitting room. The man and woman were sat exactly where Declan had left them and they looked up attentively when he entered. Link followed after, for once silent.

Declan dropped the fractured wristband down onto the coffee table before collapsing into an armchair. Link came inside, obviously limping and yet appearing to be trying to conceal it. Declan conceded that Link was a good actor as he watched the demon move with a stiff, pained expression to stand silently behind Declan’s chair.

The woman was examining the wristband while the man took photos of it with little clicks of a tiny hand-held camera.

“What was this broken with?” The man asked. Declan forced himself not to look at Link and lied smoothly, focusing on keeping his fingers still in his lap. It was Lewis that had spotted that tic and told Declan to control it, if he ever wanted to be a competent liar.

“A rolling pin.” He said. “I was quite irritated.”

“I can see that, sir.” The woman said with a polite smile. “This one is certainly beyond repair.” She opened up the briefcase by her side and set out two new wristbands. One had a stylish white finish and looked slender and unobtrusive. The other, clearly intended for the demon, was stainless steel and had the appearance of a shackle. “Demons are required by law to be connected to a functioning wristband when out of the house-”

“I haven’t taken him out.”

“Good.” The woman said, “But I’m sure you’ll wish to at some point and this is an excellent option for a replacement.” Declan leant forwards to pick one of the bands up, more for something to do with his hands than to look at it. It was heavier than it appeared. Link visibly tensed while Declan was turning it over in his fingers.

“Is it covered for by the warrantee, then?” Declan said. The woman wet her lips,

“This design is the GeoIX, a much better model than the one your demon was installed with. It has many features the IceVII is lacking, such as top-range threat-detection software and AMS systems inbuilt into the device.”

“AMS?”

“Automated Mapping Software, so boundaries can be set on Wiser’s online program and the GeoIX will ensure the demon adheres to those boundaries. The threat-detection software-”

“But is it covered by the warrantee?” The woman paused,

“Unfortunately not,” she said, “with this sort of damage. Intentional breakages or ones from neglect aren’t usually covered.” Declan frowned, feeling misled.

“I’m not looking to buy a new wristband at the moment. You said it would be covered.” The woman glanced over at her colleague before answering,

“I said there was a possibility.”

“Right.” Declan stood, “I’ll see you to the door.”

“However,” the woman said quickly, “upgrades are at a reduced rate compared to competitor’s rates. Functioning wristbands are a legal requirement-”

“Yes, you mentioned that. I would need to shop around first before buying anything. I’m sorry.”

“I think you’ll find our rates very competitive.”

“What are they then?”

“Our range covers the compact Slate models, a bargain at only sixty-four ninety-nine, up to the-”

“I’m not looking to spend that kind of money.” The woman frowned at him maternally,

“You will struggle to find anything reputable for less, sir.” She said, “As a doctor, sir, surely you can appreciate the need for public safety, as well as your own. Wiser is a very high commended brand with a long history of excellence. Besides, with the discount, the Slate models come down to a very reasonable fifty-five ninety-nine. Your warrantee ends very soon so it would be in your best interest to-”

“Thank you.” Declan cut her off, setting down the wristband he’d picked up. He didn’t want a new one. However much Link scared him, he couldn’t to picture himself shocking Link nor being able to stomach watching it happen automatically. And Link had made it very clear how much he despised them: buying one would surely make Link more likely to attack Declan instead of less. Declan didn’t believe in trusting software and wiring with his life. But Link spoke up, surprising Declan,

“That’s a good price, sir.” Link said.

“What?” Declan turned to stare at him.

“I’m sorry if I overstep, sir, but I thought you wanted me to go out with you next week,” Link lied, “and the price for the Slate model is pretty standard, in my experience, sir.” Declan grunted noncommittedly, still staring at Link. The woman seemed to pounce on the demon’s interjection and opened up her briefcase to take out two slate-grey bands which she set down beside their larger, more attractive cousins.

“Would it link up with his existing band?” Declan asked grudgingly, lightly taking hold of Link’s hand and lifting Link’s sleeve to show them the metal band. The tendons in Link’s wrist twitched but he didn’t try to free himself from Declan’s touch. The woman leant forward to look at Link’s band,

“That is one of the later Ice models so, yes, it should link up fine with a Slate. However, the Ice models did have some glitches that have been ironed out in the-”

“How much is a single band;” Declan cut in, “this Slate one?”

“The price was per band.” The woman said, a touch coldly, “Fifty-five ninety-nine is very reasonable.” Declan picked up the ugly-looking thing and turned it over.

“Fine.” He said. “Link, hand me my coat.” Link lifted Declan’s coat from where it was hanging over the chair and silently handed it to Declan. Declan fished out his wallet and handed over three twenties. The woman accepted them with a gracious smile and took a boxed Slate model from her briefcase, pushing it towards Declan before finding him his change.

Declan left the band on the table, accepting the coins in silence,

“Show them to the door, Link.” He said and Link stiffly did as he was told, though he sent a cold glance at Declan that clearly warned him not to touch the wristband while he was out of the room. Declan sighed and laid his head back in his seat. He didn’t move when Link re-entered the room and went immediately for the box up from the table but looked tiredly over at the demon where he was pulling the band from the box, dropping the wrapping on the floor. Declan was reminded of the mess of the bowl in the kitchen and he sighed heavily,

“I don’t care what you do with the band,” he said, “But don’t break it. I’ll have to wear it if we go out and I’m not buying another one.” Link glared at him spitefully,

“You’re saying that if I break this one, you won’t buy another to take me to get my shots?” He raised his eyebrows in mock disapproval, “That’s not very fucking responsible, Dr Declan. Don’t you know about herd immunity? In fact, oops,” he dropped the band with a crack that made Declan wince. Link moved his leg as if to bring his heel down on the band and Declan stepped forward,

“Link,” he snapped, remembering all of his previous irritation, “don’t you dare!”

“Oh no, you stay there.” Link snapped, his heel hovering over the band, “‘I’m not buying another one’, you said. Shall we see if your word holds true, you fucking asshole. Fell into role of owner pretty fucking quickly then, didn’t you?” Link’s voice was fury and violence, but Declan thought it might be hiding something like hurt. “‘Get my coat, Link’, ‘Show them to the door, Link’, ‘Kiss my fucking ass, Link’-”

“If you break that, I’m not giving you the next one.” Link glared,

“Fucking changed your mind already?” Link snapped, “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t buy another one? But what would I know, I’m just a stupid demon, aren’t I? Did you enjoy feeling superior? It chafes, doesn’t it, to treat a demon as an equal-”

“No,” Declan said angrily, “it doesn’t. And the thing is, you’re smart enough to know that what I did just now was an act but you’re choosing to ignore that because it hurt your pride, didn’t it. Now you’re just re-asserting yourself the way you know best; with cruel words and threats.” Declan glanced down at where Link’s foot was still hovering over the band but he said nothing. Giving Link commands only seemed to encourage him so he turned to head silently the kitchen to clear up the sticky fragments of Link’s broken bowl.

The house was quiet but for the clink of broken china for several minutes before Declan heard Link step up behind him.

“I hate you.” Link said. Declan didn’t look up but continued to carefully clear up Link’s mess

“I know.” Declan was too tired to stand against Link bottomless anger.

“I will fucking kill you if you shock me with that thing.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Venomous. Then, casually, “When does your rapist get free?”

“What?” Declan looked up. Link grinned with little humour,

“Keep up, Declan _dear_. When does your-”

“He’s not ‘my’ anything.” Declan snapped, standing to throw the clinking bag of fragments into the bin. He’d stood too fast and had to pause, hand on the counter, to steady himself. Link smirked,

“Are you a little faint?” Link taunted, “Two weeks, wasn’t it?” Declan glared,

“If you knew, why did you ask?”

“I don’t know dick, perhaps I wasn’t fucking certain. Why always so uptight about everything Dec, anyone would think you’d got something jammed up your arse.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What ‘dick’ or ‘Dec’? Dec the dick. That has a good ring to it.”

“Why are you called ‘Link’ anyway?” Link’s expression closed up instantly,

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“Neither is half the things you ask me.”

“I’m living in your house,” Link said angrily, “It’s my fucking business when someone who probably has a fucking vendetta against you, is going to fucking come after you. _You_ won’t fucking be ho- here, you’ll be at work, doing whatever useless, boring job you usually do for your snotty rich clients- What are you fucking smirking at? What’s so fucking funny?”

“You called here home.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Link, if you don’t want to be here when he’s likely to come looking,” Declan said, seriously, “then we can do something else. I can take annual leave and we can go somewhere. Or you can spend the day at the surgery with me, or we can stay-”

“Fucking hell, no. I don’t want to be stuck with you a second longer than I have to.” Silence.

“Fine. Tell me if you change your mind.” Declan headed out of the kitchen and picked up his coat for a second time, opening the front door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Link demanded from the kitchen doorway,

“I don’t know.” Declan muttered, closing the door behind him before Link could ask any more goddamn questions. The door wasn’t locked, so Link could have followed him outside, but Declan knew he wouldn’t. Not even Link wanted to be taken for a runaway.

Declan walked down the street and down another and another until he was lost. Then he went to a bar, ordered a cider and sat with it until it was as warm in his hands and the condensation had slid down the sides to settle around the base. The bar was large and modern with golden lighting and a noisy rush of people eating lunch, talking, laughing and drinking too much. No-one recognised Declan or tried to talk to him and Declan was glad.

Afterwards, in the early afternoon, Declan got his bearings and stretched his legs walking to the supermarket. It was a fair walk, a good forty minutes, so he was disappointed to find that the demon man he had spoken to the other day wasn’t on any of the tills. He was loathe to ask after him in case he got the demon in trouble but, with little else to do and dreading going home to Link’s little cruelties, Declan decided to waste time wandering up and down the shop aisles with a basket in hand, just as he’d done years ago when he’d been putting off returning to Lewis.

It was in the foreign foods section that he found the demon man. Glancing over his shoulder, Declan checked that there was no-one else in the aisle before approaching the demon, whose attention was on the shelf he was restocking,

“Hello.” Declan said. The demon started and stood up quickly, dropping one of the boxes of dehydrated rice noodles as he did so,

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “I didn’t see- oh, it’s you. Sir.”

“Yes,” Declan said with a small, careful smile. He hoped the demon couldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath. “It’s Declan.”

“Yes sir.” The demon said warily, “Can I help you?” Declan smile faded slowly,

“No, I guess not.” He said, moving his basket from one hand to the other. He was making the demon uncomfortable, he knew, and was about to step away when the demon spoke,

“How’s your demon, sir?” He asked hesitantly. Declan was silent for a moment, looking at the floor.

“He’s fine.” He said finally, “He’s- still pushing.” The demon frowned lightly, his eyes flicking up and down the aisle guardedly, before up at the ceiling. Declan kept his head down, “There are cameras?” He said.

“Yes.” The demon said, “If you- I mean, if you want to talk about this, you can walk with me. I can show you where the toothpaste is. It’s a big store, the walk will take a minute.”

“Sure. I need some more, anyway. Link likes squeezing it down the sink.” The demon man put the rice noodles he’d dropped back on the shelf and then gestured for Declan to follow him.

“Link’s your demon?”

“Yes.” Declan said, “Though he wouldn’t like you saying so.” The demon looked at Declan sideways,

“Is he fresh-caught or something?” He said doubtingly,

“No.” Declan said, smiling slightly. He thought Link would like to be accused of that. “He’s just damn stubborn.” They both fell silent as they walked past a woman arguing with her partner.

“You sound as if you admire that.” The demon said, after they had passed the couple, “Sir.”

“I do.” Declan said, “But he’s also an absolute nightmare to live with.”

“Most humans would have disciplined him or sent him to a centre.” The demon said carefully, as if unwilling to put ideas in Declan’s head.

“I know.” Declan said heavily, “But I wouldn’t send a dog to one of those centres, let alone a species-” he remembered who he was talking to and stumbled over his words for a moment, “that’s obviously intelligent. Those places are for if you want to screw up your demon’s head so bad they don’t know wrong from right, or kindness from cruelty.” He paused as they passed by a demon who was also stocking shelves, “I did some of my student training at a centre and, trust me, working there screws up the humans doing the training just as badly as it does the demons that come out like dolls.” Declan made a noise of disgust and glanced over at the demon listening to him. “Sorry.”

“I’ve been there,” the demon said, “I know what happens.”

“I’m sorry.” Declan said awkwardly, wanting to express how much compassion and admiration he felt towards any demon that had gone through that. But he could only offer platitudes. The demon grunted,

“Do you know if your demon, Link, went to one? We’re almost to the toothpaste, now, you know. Sir.”

“No, I have no idea. But his last owner was a dick, by what I gathered.” They had arrived at the toothpaste and the demon was clearly anxious to get back to his work, but he paused, checking that the father at the end of the aisle attending to his child wasn’t listening to them, before inhaling thoughtfully,

“This is what I think, Declan,” he eyed Declan, watching him for his reaction to the familiarity. Declan gave none and the demon went on, “I think Link is scared. Scared that you’re playing a long game where you pretend to be good and kind and then, as soon as he lets himself settle and believe that he can trust you, you will stab at his back and wound him far worse than if he had kept his guard up.” Declan opened his mouth but shut it again to let the demon speak, “Now because you haven’t instantly shown yourself to be evil, which he thinks you are, he is trying to goad you into showing your true colours, and he will keep doing either until you snap and he’s, in his mind, proved right, or you do something that undeniable proves you are on his side and mean him no harm.” The demon started walking away, “Be patient, don’t patronise him and try not to kill him if he’s being an utter dick.” Declan laughed quietly, watching the demon walk away,

“I’ll do my best.” He said quietly and picked up the toothpaste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So..  
> This was written a bit slap-dash-ly, which you may be able to tell. Apologies for the crappy formatting: the text wouldn't copy and paste in properly and my hand-fixing doesn't seem to have done much good.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you like where this is going. Just a warning, this chapter (especially) and the rest of this story will probably be subject to major changes later on as I edit it more.
> 
> Thoughts and comments welcome as always - please let me know what you think!!


	8. Paramour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody (un)expected turns up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... shall we ignore its been ages and I'll just casually add this random, profanity-infused, quite long chapter onto the end of this random fic..

“Fuck off.”

“You can’t survive on sugar-”

“I said _fuck off_ , what are you, deaf or an idiot?” Declan exhaled heavily,

“Link-” Link mimicked Declan’s frustration with an exaggerated huff,

“Declan,” he said, “Doc, dick, my dear scum of the earth, fuck the hell off to work before I take a steak knife to your neck for proper.” Declan released a reluctant breath of laughter and turned to pick up his bag. At the door he paused and turned,

“Link-” Link, out of sight in the kitchen, yelled angrily and smashed something. Declan winced.

“Fuck off about fucking breakfast, you fucking OCD, micro-managing bastard!”

“It wasn’t about breakfast.” Declan said calmly, trying and failing not to smile, though he smoothed it away when Link emerged from the kitchen to lounge against the wall,

“Oh.” Link said, smirking, “I dropped another plate. Very slippery, your plates,” he mimed dropping it, “Oops.”

“Oops indeed.” Declan said, feigning sternness. He recalled what he was going to say and his good humour dimmed. “Link, today, today’s when Lewis gets released. I got a call last night to warn me. Lewis isn’t allowed here but-”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Link brushed away Declan’s concerns, “I’ll guard the house with my life, everything will be fine. Fuck off and earn some money so you can buy more plates.” Declan snorted,

“At the rate you’re breaking them, I’ll never be coming home.” He said and turned towards the door,

“I’ll miss you terribly, I’m sure.”

“Good luck living on out-of-date coffee and beans.”

“I’ll worry when the alcohol runs out.” Link shot back. Declan paused and turned again,

“You haven’t forgotten that I’m coming home early, either, have-”

“I’m not an imbecile for fuck’s sake-”

“I’m going.” Declan pulled the inner door closed and paused in the porch to pull on his coat to ward against the drizzle outside,

“And stay the fuck gone!” Link yelled after him.

Declan stepped into his car, shutting out the drizzle and flicking on the windscreen wipers. Looking out at the house, Declan saw that the curtains in the front window of the lounge were still drawn and he paused, his hand on the handbrake, trapped by the memory the damp morning had thrown up.

Lewis used to sit in that window to see Declan off to work. Now it was empty.

Declan had never expected love from Link – these days he barely hoped for co-operation – but having someone in the house had stirred up mud which had long since settled at the bottom of the lake. And today, when Lewis was free and there was a real, logical chance that he might see Lewis for the first time since that day forever-ago when events had been taken out of both their hands and Lewis put to trial, where so many incredibly private, personal, painful things had been exhibited for anybody to know _. (did Declan have to testify for Lewis to go to prison?)_ The jury didn’t understand them, Lewis had said, when Declan had visited for the first time of many. Twice a week, sometimes three times a week, for six months, until the therapist’s digs at him had finally persuaded him to stop visiting, just so that they could stop the goddamn counselling.

He hated Lewis, a little, for what he had put them though, and because he’d left Declan alone. But he had also loved Lewis for his certainty that Declan was the one, that their relationship was worth fighting for, worth suffering for. They had shared lives and there was still a Lewis-sized hole in Declan’s home, just waiting for him to step back into it. Except now Link was here and Declan didn’t know whether they could both fit into Declan’s life.

Swallowing the pain in his chest, Declan toed the clutch, rolling down the drive and away down the slick road towards the surgery. The rain became torrential, flooding the windscreen and the road and since Declan had forgotten his umbrella as usual, he arrived at the surgery reception sodden. Laura, or the cleaner, Breda, had already opened up, although the first patient wasn’t due for another half-hour.

He found Laura in his office, restocking the paper roll to lay over the reclining chair.

Hanging up his dripping coat on the back of the door, Declan eased down into his chair and prodded at the computer.

“Lovely weather.” Laura said, “How are you feeling?” Declan glanced over at her as the computer screen came sleepily to life,

“Fine,” he said, “thanks. How was your weekend? Jackson had a hockey match, didn’t he?”

“The Fierce Badgers thrashed the opposition.” Laura smiled, “ten-two.” Declan’s lips twitched upwards,

“They ought to, with a name like that.”

“Jackson was very proud of the bruise he got on his knee. He insisted I photographed it. For evidence.” She showed him the picture on her phone and Declan winced. The side of Jackson’s bony knee was a smear of sickly purple,

“Ouch.” Declan managed, his mind tugging him back to his own bruises. Laura tucked her phone away and perched on the edge of one of the two patient chairs,

“Are you really alright?” She asked, looking at him earnestly. “I know what today is.” Declan cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks flush with discomfort at the scrutiny. He had always been a mediocre liar.

“You do?” He muttered uselessly. “I’m fine, really. It- it was all a long time ago.”

“Sure.” She said, “It’s just, not to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted or anything, but you know you’re allowed not to be okay, though, don’t you?”

“Yeah I know.” Declan assured her. He knew that she thought it was fine to not be okay, even if he happened to think that she, or Link, or anybody else, would have gotten over the whole thing a lot faster. And they wouldn’t still care about someone the world had decreed they should hate.

Not that he cared to share that with Laura. She was one of the sweetest people he knew but she wouldn’t understand. _They weren’t there – they don’t understand us,_ Lewis’ words rang heavy, and true.

“I’m really fine.” He said. She was still frowning kindly at him,

“Good, then, if you’re sure. I’m just, I’m here for you, I guess.” She laughed self-consciously, “And I promise I won’t try to get in your pants if you cry on my shoulder.” Declan forced himself to laugh,

“I appreciate that.” He said and looked away, trying to curtail the conversation, but Laura didn’t move.

“How’s that demon of yours?” She asked. “Behaving himself?” Declan snorted,

“He’s got plenty of personality.” Declan said, fiddling with a pen on his desk.

“Really?” She said, “I thought he seemed rather dull.” Declan smiled,

“He’s certainly not dull.”

“He’s safe, though?” The question caught Declan off-guard and he almost told the truth that, no, Link was absolutely not safe. And, for a second, he hated Laura for catching him out like that, though he knew she hadn’t meant to.

“He’s fine.” Declan said, “What’ve we got today?” Laura was silent for a moment before she answered, eying him. Out of everything, keeping secrets was not something Declan had missed in the slightest.

“I’m going on that school visit, if you remember. Sex ed. for fourteen-year-olds. I’m sure it’ll be hilarious.” Declan managed to match her smile,

“Packed your obligatory banana?”

“Oh no, it’s much more high-tech these days,” she said, “apparently I’ll be fully supplied with anatomically-correct plastic replicas.” Declan cringed,

“If they’re trying to put them off sex, that’ll probably work.” Laura laughed good-humouredly,

“I think they’re more about education than celibacy these days.” Declan gave her a quick smile as he was bringing up his calendar on the computer. “You’re leaving early today, aren’t you? Going anywhere nice?”

“Er,” Declan looked over at her, “Not really. I’m taking Link to Central to get him registered. Some people came over about wristbands and said that I had to get him registered etcetera.” Laura coked her head at him,

“Why did people come over about wristbands?” Declan blinked at her in silence for a second,

“Well, because my band got broken.” He kept his hands still.

“That’s not like you.” Laura said slowly, considering him. Declan avoided meeting her eyes,

“Hm.” He said, “I’ve got first patient in a few minutes,” he checked his watch, “and don’t you need to be going?” Laura looked at her wrist and started for the door,

“Shit, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Hope the thing in Central goes okay.”

“I’m sure it will.” Declan said, not sure at all. She headed out, glancing at him over her shoulder with an expression of puzzled, even suspicious, concern. Declan knew she hadn’t forgotten what they’d talked about, nor his evasion. She was too smart to not realise when she was being lied to.

Driving back home in the middle of the afternoon, the sun glaring maliciously through the windscreen and leaving Declan feeling like an insect in a jar.

“Link, I’m home.” He called, hanging up his coat.

“Shame.” Link said from the lounge. Declan stepped inside to lean on the doorframe and found Link on the floor, looking as if he’d just been exercising, his hair sticking to his forehead. “Are you ready to go? Have you eaten?” Link glared, getting up to push past Declan into the hallway.

“OCD,” he said, “it’s a thing.”

“So’s anorexia.” Declan said, but didn’t push the matter any further. “We need to go, and I’ll need that band, wherever you put it.” Link opened his mouth but Declan cut him off, “I know, I know, if I shock you, you’ll kill me. I got it.” Link smirked, pouting,

“I trained you well.” He said, “But if you’ll quit the fuck talking over me, I was about to say that I don’t want them or you putting any sort of collar or brand or what the fuck ever on me.”

“Brand?” Declan repeated. Link pulled up the side of his shirt and tugged down his jeans to show Declan a raised, white circle of scar tissue on hip. It had a thick line through the middle, like a stop sign and there was a blurred letter on either side, though Declan couldn’t read them. Link dropped his shirt and sat on the stairs to pull on his trainers. Declan thought numbly that he hadn’t noticed that when Link had taken off his shirt before.

“Hurt like a motherfucker.” Link said, serious for once, “I won’t kill you if you brand me, Declan, I will fucking eviscerate you. Understand?” Declan stared at him,

“I would never do that to you.” Link shot him an unsteady grin,

“Never say never boyo.”

“Never.” Declan said, with as much weight as he could. Link bounced up into standing, crowding Declan in the hallway and went towards the door.

“Yeah whatever.” He said. Declan was thinking that it had been far too easy to get Link out of the house, that he had expected the demon to put up more of a fight, when Link turned around, his hands against either wall in the hallway, blocking it, “Fuck this,” he said, “you can go without me.” He strode back towards Declan with such purpose that Declan automatically stepped backwards before he forced himself to hold his ground. Link raised his eyebrows, looking not the least bit concerned.

“No,” Declan tried, “you have to be there. You know that. You’ve done this before.” Link’s head came sharply forward, up into Declan’s face,

“And last time I was fucking pinned to the floor and branded like a fucking cow!” He snarled, abruptly furiously, spitting angry, “Fuck you, move!” He shoved Declan in the chest, knocking the breath out of him and allowing Link to move past him into the kitchen.

“If you don’t come, then I can’t get you registered and you’ll be illegal. They’ll take you away, to one of those,” Declan struggled to express himself, “centres-”

“Who the fuck would know?” Link retorted, “It’s not like I fucking leave the house.” Declan pulled back, hurt.

“We can go out wherever you want,” he said, defensive, “but legally we have to register you and I have to wear the wristband. I know- I know you don’t trust me to look out for you, but I won’t-”

“Fuck do you know about trust,” Link grumbled, “ _you_ trusted an abusive, rapist asshole.” Declan flinched and shut his mouth with a click. Link, too, fell silent and in the quiet, Declan tried to control his uneven breathing.

“It- I-” Declan dropped his head. Nobody understood, and Declan didn’t expect Link, who hadn’t been loved, to understand either. Declan started taking off his coat, then his shoes,

“What are you doing now?” Link said, his voice lacking its usual edge.

“I can’t force you to go.” Declan said, kicking his shoes to the side and moving towards the stairs. Link moved suddenly to stop him, grabbing his arm and Declan flinched violently. The tension between them had left him wound tight and, his cheeks flushed with shame, he glared at Link, who drew away. Link didn’t flinch like this when he was touched, it was only him.

“No touching.” Link muttered, barely audible. “Put your shoes back on.” His harsh tone didn’t match the muted sadness on his face. Without another word, he walked out the door to sit on the front step and Declan did as he was told, picking up his keys, wallet, coat before heading out,

“Have you got the wristband?” He asked as he was climbing in the car. Link glanced sideways at him,

“Obviously.” Declan put the car in gear and reversed them out, and they drove in silence for several minutes. “Don’t fuck this up.” Link said finally. Declan glanced over at him and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“What is there to fuck up?” He said, coughing to clear his throat. “We’re just getting you registered. They’ll be no branding or whatever you’re nervous about-”

“I’m not fucking nervous. When am I ever scared of anything? I’m not.” Declan glanced over at him as they entered the middle of town, close to Central.

“You’re brave.” Declan said, “Really brave, but that’s doing something even though you’re scared, not that you aren’t afraid at all.”

“Fuck off with your psycho mumbo-shit.” Link snapped.

“Yessir.” Declan muttered. Link’s head turned quickly towards him,

“What did you say that for?” He said, glaring, and Declan sighed inwardly, “I fucking told you you were bitter. You think you’re “progressive” and “for equal rights” and all that but you think I should be fucking grateful that you’re being so nice. You think-”

“Shut up.” Declan said sharply, jerking them to a halt at the traffic lights, “Stop telling me what I think when you haven’t got a clue.” He paused, glaring, “But if we’re doing that, then, _you_ think that everyone’s you’re enemy. You can’t see past your own bias that every human is prejudiced and ignorant and, and inherently evil. I said it because you were being bossy. No other reason.”

“Yeah?” Link said, heatedly, “So would you have said-” Link shut his mouth abruptly and turned his head away. Seconds passed heavily and Declan clenched his jaw, pulling into Central carpark and looking around for a space. He finished Link’s question,

“Would I have said it to Lewis?” Link didn’t speak and Declan didn’t answer the question, getting silently out of the car and picking up his coat from the backseat.

Link hadn’t got out of the car yet and a couple caught Declan’s attention where they were arguing on the other side of the carpark. Two demon kids were hovering behind, the taller one looking barely older than seven though Declan knew that demons grew up faster than humans. They were holding hands, the elder trying to quiet the younger one, who couldn’t have been more than three. But the child started crying despite the taller one’s efforts.

“Kid’s gonna get smacked.” Link said, slamming Declan’s car door. Declan turned away from the demon children and locked the car, turning towards Central’s main building; which mimicked the style of the oldest, most opulent parts of town, with their charmingly time-sullied grey-blue walls, vaulted windows and steep, slate roofs, the tiles glistening purple in the rain. Central was far larger than the original buildings, though, which were like dollhouses in comparison. Some of the charm had been lost in the upsize as well and, to Declan, though beautiful from afar, the many floors and the semi-circular layout made the buildings loom, their slates dull and cold on a dry, cloudy day as it was then.

 Declan walked away from the car and the couple with the demon kids and heard Link’s hurried steps to catch up with him.

“Perfect,” Link hissed, shoving the wristband into Declan’s hand, “Walking off without me. That’s exactly the dick-ish behaviour they’ll expect. Great _acting_ , Declan.” Declan didn’t even look at him as he fumbled to lock the metallic band on his wrist and tighten it.

“I can’t watch kids getting hit.” He said and kept walking towards Central.

“It’s good for ‘em to learn it early.” Link said. Declan looked up from the wristband,

“You’re being serious?” He said.

“Demon kids. They’re treated like demons.” Link said, venomously, “Being coddled is worse. If you only touch a kid with feathers, how’s it gonna cope when its hit with a fucking baseball bat?”

“I see.” Declan said slowly, looking sideways at Link. He was talking too passionately for it to be anything but personal experience.

“Quit looking at me.” Link said under his breath as they entered Central’s reception, “Focus on the fucking task at hand. I want to leave the house before I’m forty, remember?”

“Sure.” Declan led the way over to the desk, where a demon woman sat looking both attentive and bored. “Hi, I booked an appointment to register my demon?”

“Name, sir?”

“Declan Nӕsheim.”

“Dr Nӕsheim, sir?”

“Yes.”

“I need some ID, sir.” Declan glanced sideways to check that Link was still beside him as he fished his wallet from his pocket and flashed his ID.

“Demon’s legal name, sir?”

“What?” Declan blinked at her. She was somewhat older than Link, closer to Declan’s age and her eyes looked emptily at him as if she’d been sat in that chair for every one of those years.

“Demon’s legal name is required for the system, sir.”

“I don’t know his legal name.” Declan turned to look at Link who was staring vaguely ahead. “Link?”

“It’s Link05. Sir.” Declan nodded,

“Right. Link05, then.” He said to the demon behind the desk.

“Thank you.” She said mechanically, “Please take a seat, sir.”

“Sure. Thanks.” Declan moved away to sit down and Link followed him, going smoothly down as if to kneel but Declan caught his elbow and nudged him onto the seat next to him. Link turned to frown at him but didn’t speak and they sat in silence, Declan’s stomach tying itself in knots. The picture Link had created in Declan’s mind of him being ‘pinned down like a cow’ wouldn’t leave Declan’s head and his fingers seemed to ache in his lap as he restrained himself from seeking out Link’s hand. The affection wouldn’t be welcome, even if they weren’t currently sat in Central.

Declan started quickly to his feet when his name was called and Link stood smoothly behind him.

“This way, please.” A young man appeared, leading them over to one of a long row of booths and lifting aside the dark brown curtain. Inside a middle-aged, balding man was sitting with a computer, the end-tip of his glasses resting on his thick, bottom lip. He looked up and stood quickly to shake Declan’s hand firmly, his grip dry and strong.

“Hello, hello,” he said, as the young man drew the curtain, “Please sit down.” Declan did so and Link fell to kneel beside him. The lighting inside the booth was yellow and somewhat oppressive within the small space so that Declan imagined he could feel the lamp light burning the back of his neck. Looking around, there was a height-measuring stand very similar to Declan’s in the surgery, and a weighing scales beside it. There was a narrow, grey-metal cabinet in the corner but no evidence of any branding equipment or restraints and Declan wondered for a moment if Link had only said that to unsettle him. But no, Link had shown him the mark on his hip that couldn’t have been anything but burnt into him, so perhaps Central had simply stopped the barbaric practice. Declan rubbed his damp hands on the tops of his thighs and waited for the man on the other side of the desk, tapping at his computer, to speak.

As if sensing Declan’s gaze, the man glanced up to smile fleetingly at Declan, his glasses now settled on his nose,

“I’ll be with you in just a moment, Mr- er,” he checked something, “Ah, Dr Nӕsheim.” Declan nodded and twitched his lips in a smile before looking away, glancing down at where Link was kneeling silently. The demon’s hands were clenching rhythmically in his lap: tighten, release, tighten, release. And his shoulders were rigid. Declan had been right, he knew; Link wasn’t fearless, he was brave.

“Ah, right, so, let me see. Can I have your date of birth please, Dr Nӕsheim?”

“Twenty-eighth August 2133.”

“And the first line of your address?”

“A19 December Street.”

“Excellent, nice part of town. And this is Link05. Now, on our records he had an Ice model, which that looks like. All working fine?”

“Yes, works fine.” Declan said, “Mine’s a Slate, though.”

“Fine, fine,” the man tapped at his computer, “Alright, now then, I need some details on how you acquired the demon if you please. Did you know the previous owner personally?”

“No,” Declan said, “I- I work at a surgery on Griffith Row. Link was living with the ex-wife of the previous owner; she called herself Ms James. She implied that the demon was for sale and I- well, I took her up on the offer.”

“I see.” The man said, “That is rather unconventional. Did money change hands?”

“No, I mean, not directly.” Declan said, “I asked that she pay for Link’s shots because he still needed them-”

“What shots were these?”

“The Hemo-system single shot and the biennial SFD shot.”

“And is he up-to-date now?” Declan winced apologetically.

“No.” He said. The man frowned fraternally at him,

“He is overdue, according to his records, so make that a priority.”

“I will.”

“Good. So, as you were saying?”

“Oh, well, I gave her a discount on the consultation but that was all.”

“No paperwork, records of ownership?”

“No.” Declan said, his skin hot. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” He glanced over at Link, who wasn’t looking at him, and then back to the man who was tapping at his keyboard.

“Now, Link05 here has some behavioural issues on his record; escape attempts, wilful disobedience. Violent tendencies categorised a level two risk.”

“Out of five?”

“Yes. Have you felt uncomfortable or at risk while he’s been with you, Dr Nӕsheim?” The man’s hands were poised above his keyboard, his eyes steady on Declan’s face.

“Well- occasionally,” Declan said, refusing to look down at Link, whose head had snapped up, “I mean, he broke a plate once and I was concerned he wanted the shards as a weapon, you know?” Declan saw Link’s shoulders sink in relief, though he didn’t look away from the man. Declan laughed self-deprecatingly, “He didn’t, of course. I was being paranoid, I’m sure.”

“But there’s been no other instances,” Declan vividly remembered the feel of the knife-edge at his throat and he swallowed, “no threats?”

“Threats?” He repeated absently, “He’s a little free with his tongue sometimes but he’s never violent.” That was a downright lie, “What did he do to get categorised a two?” The man looked at him solemnly,

“One of the many downfalls of purchasing a demon without an agency as an intermediate, Doctor, is that there are no safety checks in place on your behalf. The agencies are always very thorough.” The agencies were run by Central, just like the centres, and Declan would never buy a demon from there. “But since you’ve gone down this route, I would recommend that you apply for your demon’s full records and history. You can do it at the desk for a nominal fee. In answer to your question, Link05 has been detained and retrained at two different centres after incidents of extreme threat and moderate violence towards his owners.”

“Oh.” Declan said quietly. Link had been to centres twice? The man nodded, misunderstanding Declan’s discomposure,

“Yes,” he said, “so you see why it is better to obtain demons through the more, ahem, proper routes.”

“Yeah.” Declan said vaguely.

“Right, well,” the man straightened in his chair, “we have your details on the system now, so there’s just a few things left to do. Firstly, the demon’s height and weight. If you could just escort your demon to the measuring stand over there please.” Link got jerkily to his feet and went to stand with his back to the stand, Declan hovering awkwardly beside him. The man came over and fussed with the measurements, “1.85m, excellent. And on the scales please.” Link did so. Where before he had been indifferent, he now stared down at the red display at his feet and Declan frowned. “Ah, gained a little weight.” The man said and Declan struggled not to glare at him. The numbers read 72kg. “That’s good. There was a note of concern on his record for being underweight.”

“Note of concern?” Declan repeated. It sounded almost as if Central cared for the demons’ wellbeing.

“Yes, well, low weight can be an early warning for suicidal intent. Just keep an eye on that, you have scales at home?”

“In the surgery.”

“Excellent, yes, you’ll know all about that, then. Now, final thing: ID.” Slightly confused, Declan reached for his wallet.

“My ID was checked at reception.” He said. The man waved Declan’s ID away,

“Yes, yes, I forgot that you are a first-time owner.” He laughed good-humouredly. “You have a very competent air about you.” Declan smiled awkwardly,

“Comes with the job, I think.” He said and the man laughed again.

“Yes indeed. No, the ID is for the demon. On his records he has a tattoo on his lower back from his first owner and a brand on his hip from his second. He’s got his tracker, off course, which has basic information for identification on it, but most owners like to put their stamp on their demon, so to speak. Have you considered what method you would prefer?” Declan’s throat was dry and he swallowed thickly. He purposely didn’t look at Link.

“Er no, no I haven’t. Is it compulsory?”

“Yes it is compulsory, I’m afraid. Since we’ve had instances of trackers breaking down – very rarely of course, not often at all – and, just as a back-up-”

“You’re worried about the security of your systems?” Declan said.

“No, no, no,” the man said quickly, “It is simply easier to have a, well, _physical_ record of a transfer of ownership, you understand.” Declan didn’t. “In terms of cost, each method incurs a charge, but considering only the very best equipment and most experienced persons are employed, I think you would agree that it is worth the very small expense, relatively.” Declan made a non-committal noise in his throat and there was silence for several seconds. “So, ah, in terms of options, if you are unfamiliar,” the man continued, when Declan didn’t speak, “There is, of course, small to large tattoos available, branding, both traditional and freeze-branding, as you will have seen on your demon.” Declan felt vaguely nauseated at the thought of subjecting Link to any of the man’s suggestions. “We also offer sub-dermal implants, scarification and laser-tattooing.” Scarification?

“I see. Is there anything less- permanent?” Declan said slowly. The man nodded understandingly,

“Well, of course, you want some time to think it over? As long as you return within twelve days, you can research and look for ideas as much as you like. We have some books you can look at for inspiration if you’d like.”

“Thanks.” Declan said weakly. “We- I mean, I’ll need some time to consider. Thank you.”

“Of course, of course, that’s absolutely fine. Finally, before you go, I’ll need the contact details of who you want your demon to be assigned to in case of your being unavailable, for whatever reason.”

“Right,” Declan said, sitting back down again, “Laura Vincent. Erm, her number is-” Declan read it off his phone and then gave Laura’s address.

“Excellent.” The man said, “that’s great. Be sure to let her know that you’ve got her down as the emergency contact.” Declan nodded, “Now don’t forget about those shots, and be sure to come back within twelve days, but other than that, we’re all done.”

“Great.” Declan said. “Thanks for your help.” The man smiled, coming to his feet to shake Declan’s hand again.

“No problem, none at all. Have a good day, have a very nice day.”

“You too.” Declan headed out, cooler air hitting his face as they left the small booth and walked back towards the reception lobby and out through the front doors. He shivered. “You alright?” He said to Link.

“Fucking fine.” Link muttered and then refused to speak another word until they were back in the car, “It’s not as if I thought you were gonna fucking get me sent back to one of those sadist-playhouses.”

“You’ve been twice.” Declan said, that particular fact still playing on his mind.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fucked up. It’s an established fact, Dicky-Dec, hadn’t we got over this already?” Declan was silent. “What? Regretting your life choices?” Declan silently put the car in gear and clipped in his seatbelt. He heard Link do the same.

“Let’s go home.” He said, heading slowly out of the car-park, under the barriers. It was free parking for the first hour and they’d only been half an hour.

“Oh yeah, _home_ ,” Link sniped, “where the WiFi connects automatically. Oh, wait, no, home is where we’re waiting for your shitty, abusive, ex-prison-bird lover husband: were you married? I didn’t ask.”

“No. We weren’t married.”

“Thank god for that.”

“He was- we were planning a ceremony.”

“Oh for fucks sake.” Link huffed dramatically. “Were you planning to have kids and a little puppy so he could bash them too?”

“No.”

“No? Just no?”

“Neither of us wanted kids.”

“Wow, the first sensible thing you’ve said. But marriage, really? You would have tied yourself to that oaf with the ‘until death do-’” Declan jabbed at the radio so that its steady patter of news overrode Link’s tirade and glared at the drizzle-splattered road ahead. Link shut his mouth. “You're so fucking uptight.” He said but didn’t speak again for the rest of the ride home. Declan knew that Link was jabbing at Declan’s weak-spots because he’d just been made to feel vulnerable and the demon’s defensive method was to lash out. That didn’t mean Declan wanted to listen to it.

By the time they got back it was getting dark, the weather closing in, and Declan flicked on the heating when he saw that Link was shivering. The windscreen was spotted with rain as they pulled into the dark drive.

“I’m fucking hungry.” Link said as they were getting out of the car.

“Who’s this, Deke?” A man’s voice said from the porch.

“Deke?” Link said at the same moment that Declan froze.

“Lewis.” Declan said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do let me know your thoughts, I'm dying to know!

**Author's Note:**

> So... whatdidya think? 
> 
> (Imaginary) penny for your thoughts?


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